


The Fall of King Gavin

by QueenCoeurl



Series: Royalty AU [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Achievement Hunter Kings, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Gen, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Language, Mad King Ryan, Magical Accidents, soul devouring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:27:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 27,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6242950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCoeurl/pseuds/QueenCoeurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin attempts to make peace with his rivals, but co-operation was never their strength. Ryan-centric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  The two hooded men rode through the city gates. They were warmly bundled in winter furs cut in the Northern style. Here in the capital the spring snows were light and temperature warmer, but these men had made their way through blizzards. They had pulled their suffering steeds through snow drifts as tall as they.

  “You can keep the North. It holds no value to me.” The man with his sword at his hip muttered, “I much rather leave it to govern itself.”

  The other man had his large claymore hung across his back, “Oh?” He chuckled, “But we rely on the south to survive. Your last rule had us forgotten and many went wanting for food.”

  “I had more important matters to attend to. The North went hungry but did not starve.”

  “If you want my support, and would prefer I not take the crown from you, I’d see to it that the North not be forgotten again.”

  This got a hearty laugh from the larger man with the sword at his hip, “Your support? I know our friendship is tenuous at best. We may be allies now, but it was required to venture this far and not fall prey to bandits and wolves.” He turned to him, “You who denied me my sword until scavengers were upon us, would now seek my favour?”

  “I have never held you ill will.”

  “And neither have you held it towards our current king, but yet you speak as if the throne sat empty and uncontested.”

  “I’m no gambler, and I know that no one shall come between you and him. You seek revenge as if it were sport.”

  The larger chuckled lightly at that, “His highness will be surprised to see me. To learn that even death and entombment will not slow me. The Fool sent his invitation to all who had laid claim to the throne. It would be rude of me not to accept.”

  “He wished to draw the insurgent from the shadows. You left Narvaez believing he was the rightful king, only for his Highness to spill your gut and claim the throne. He is rightfully angry and the East fully supports him. It only makes sense for his Highness to extend broad invitation and welcome him with full intention of open discussion. He is called the Fool but the title hides his wit.”

  “He is still the coward; extending broad invitation to ensure that he and his allies outnumber the rebel.”

  “The First may favour his Highness but his apathy is more hindrance than boon.”

  “Simply claiming favour of the First King is enough to deter most.”

  The smaller man’s smile was visible beneath his hood, “And yet you claim not to fear him. You claim to be the one who will end his eternal watch.”

  “One must simply know where and how to strike.”

  The smaller man laughed, his whole body shaking, “Ah yes, a simple matter: becoming a god. They call you mad with reason.”

  “And yet here I am having escaped the fate that befalls all mortal men.” He smirked and the smaller man shook his head at him.

  “I don’t deny the power you wield, you’ve displayed it time and time again, but anyone sane can see this pursuit is one that leads to self-destruction.”

  “You are correct and I now see the error of my ways. I am a reformed man. Thank you for saving me dear righteous Michael-”

  Michael cut him off with a snarl, “Do not mock me, Ryan!”

  Ryan leaned back placing his hand to rest on the hilt of his sword as he gazed at the castle walls approaching them, “Then do not mock me by believing I know not what forces I dabble in.”

  Michael pulled down his furred hood so that the castle guards could recognize him and let them pass the gates.

  Ryan pulled up his scarf; the castle staff who would know his face had most likely moved on, but he’d rather not cause alarm.

  They were stopped before the doors of the King’s hall.

  A guard gave a bow and then explained, “His Highness has asked that all weapons be left at the door. He wishes for this to be a jovial event. My apologies my lord, but I must insist that you and your companion remove your swords.”

  Michael removed his sword and handed it to a guard, with Ryan begrudgingly following suit. Michael pushed open the door to the hall and stepped in.

  “My boiiii!” Came the King’s gleeful greeting. He stood up from his seat at the head of the long table. Geoff sat to his left and Jack to his right.

  Ray had been given the seat of honour and held the other end of the table across from Gavin. He turned to give a less excited greeting.

  Gavin approached Michael and embraced him. He noticed how weakly the embrace was returned, “I know it was quite the journey, but come now and have some wine. Let your squire leave us to matters of the kingdom’s future.”

  Geoff stood abruptly and stared Ryan in the eye, recognizing him. Ryan returned the glare.

  “Geoff?” Jack asked as he noticed his stiff posture.

  Gavin clapped Michael on the shoulder and looked to Geoff, “Today we forget old grievances and-”

  Ryan removed his hood and pulled down his scarf. There was a sharp inhale from the room.

  Gavin gave a horrified squawk before catching his demeanor and appearing jovial once more, “I - you died. Proper burial in the Northern Teeth. Entombed. I’ll have the servants set you a place.” He waved towards servers near the wall, and they busied themselves.

  Ryan gave an exaggerated bow, “My Liege, I thought it would be most rude to be absent.”

  Michael rolled his eyes, “I found him at my cabin door, nearly dead once again. I could not with clear conscience let him leave my sight.”

  “Wisely done.” Ray commented.

  Geoff wasn’t going to stand for this dancing around, “Strong men may cheat death, but none escape it in the end. You were nearly cleaved in two. You dare walk among the living once more?”

  “So says the undying.” Ryan smirked only irritating Geoff further, “I assure you my beating heart proves I am no undead abomination.”

  “But an abomination no less.” Jack muttered.

  Ryan’s eyes flicked towards Jack, but before he had a chance to say anything, the King spoke.

  “Everyone! This is not the place nor time to air old grievances. I say let them be forgotten for the good of the kingdom. The M-” He had been about to say Mad King but corrected himself, “Haywood has returned, it is truly a… miraculous time we live in.” He returned to his seat and motioned for everyone to be seated.

  Ryan sat himself between Geoff and Ray. Michael sat opposite him between Ray and Jack.

  Gavin spoke, “Ray, the East is loyal to you. Michael, the North would follow you to the End and beyond. Geoff, you built this kingdom from your sweat and blood. Jack, you may be called the Uncrowned, but regardless of who held the title you remained loyal to the kingdom and ensured its well-being. Ryan, your rule united the people as one. We each have our strengths, but also our weaknesses. Why must we compete and slaughter for this title?” He removed his crown and tossed it to the middle of the table, “I propose this: Geoff you take the capital with Jack, Michael the North, Ray the East, Ryan the South, and I the West. The Kingdom remains united but we rule by council.”

  “And what in our long history together makes you believe such a thing is possible? That no daggers be drawn the moment a back is turned?” Ray looked at Ryan as he said this.

  “An unfortunate but unavoidable truth.” Michael also looked to Ryan.

  “Your proposition has a major flaw: you assume that we each believe ourselves to have the kingdom’s best intentions in mind. Do you trust that no one here wishes to be king for the riches? The power? The luxury?” Jack pointed out.

  “Jack’s loyalty and sense of honour may keep the capital running, but it was Geoff’s apathy that drove my hand. He claimed you three as his heirs and then what? Watched you squabble for his favour as the people remained forgotten?” Ryan put his hands on the table and ignored Geoff to his right.

  “Watch yourself Haywood.” Geoff stated lazily but his eyes were stern.

  “Or you’ll kill me?” Ryan turned to him with a vicious smirk, “If you care so little about the pleas of the people as they rot in your neglect, why have you remained? Surely there are more important matters for you to attend to? Or do you enjoy gathering dust on the throne? Drinking yourself into a stupor?”

  Geoff’s voiced gained a steel edge, “There are fates worse than death Haywood. Fates that you will soon come to intimately understand if you do not relinquish your obsession of surpassing me.”

  “The Mad King concerned for the people?” Michael laughed, “Where was that concern when you spilled innocent blood behind locked doors in pursuit of the arcane? You see subjects as nothing more than a resource to be abused by those with power.”

  Ryan’s hands curled into fists, “I did what I had to!”

  Geoff made an amused noise.

  “Silence!” Gavin hollered, he took a breath, “I tried to be civil, but it seems we cannot.”

  Ray crossed his arms, “I cannot speak for anyone but myself, but if the King allows me to rule the East as I see fit, then I have no qualms. However, my trust in the King would be unfounded should he not prove himself capable of remaining out of Eastern affairs. We hold much of the Kingdom’s trade, am I to believe that you would have that leave your control without so much as an argument?”

   “He never stated the details would be sorted without argument. He merely proposes that you at least try.” Jack clarified.

  Gavin motioned at Jack, “Yes, thank you. If we do not even try we condemn ourselves to perpetual bloodshed. And yes I admit, I did not expect the presence of Haywood, which complicates things, but if he can agree to be satisfied with the South…” He looked at Ryan.

  Ryan crossed his arms, “I do not agree with being outnumbered when you raise your armies to oust me.”

  “The man trusts no one and thus no one can allow themselves to trust him.” Michael shook his head.

  “And how well would you trust those who conspired against you?” Ryan looked Gavin in the eye, “The man who nearly cleaved you in two.”

  Geoff shrugged, “You seem to have recovered quite well.”

  “Then do it not through trust, but because your King commands you!” Gavin raised his voice and then added as an afterthought, “Or I will see if you can return from the dead once again.”

  There was silence at the table. Threats had been made to the Mad King before, but never while unarmed and within arm’s reach. He had a reputation of not reacting to them civilly.

  To everyone’s astonishment Ryan simply bowed his head, “As you command, My Liege.”

  His response unnerved the King - the last thing he had expected was obedience - and it immediately set off every warning bell within his head. He cleared his throat, “Uh, yes. Good. Let us then begin deliberations tomorrow. Once we are all rested.” He waved to his servants and they came forward bowing low, “Lead our honoured guests to their quarters, and ensure their needs are met.”

  The men all stood and let themselves be led. Each was directed to a separate wing, far from any other, with the servants carrying their weapons until they had made safe distance from each other.

  A fair haired servant led Ryan towards his quarters. He was quite young and fidgeted with his hands, throwing the odd glance towards Ryan when he thought he wasn’t looking.

  Ryan was quick to notice, “Is there something concerning you?”

  The man looked away and avoided his gaze.

  “Out with it.” Ryan urged.

  “If I may be permitted to speak freely?” The servant asked.

  Ryan nodded.

  He folded his hands and gave a quick bow, “My mother worked in the castle and raised me alongside her. You very much remind me of our last king, or at least what I remember from when I was a boy.”

  “Do I?” Ryan tried not to smile; he was still recognizable.

  “You have no relation to him perchance? A younger sibling?”

  “No I am not his sibling.” The servants were master gossipers, and Ryan knew that word would soon spread now that he had been recognized.

  The servant’s eyes went wide with recognition, and he fell to his knees in a bow.

  “If you bowed to every ex-regent within the castle, you’d be left with no knees. Rise.” Ryan ordered.

  The servant quickly rose to his feet, and continued to lead the way.

   “If you have been in the castle since my untimely departure, then tell me; how has King Free treated the place? I know the Red King flushed the castle clean of all staff who had worked under me when he took the throne years before.”

  The servant shook his head shocked, “His Majesty has done no such thing! No, no, no. Drink flows and the folk are merry - Not that they weren’t merry under your rule, my lord.”

  “We will see how long he can bleed gold; until then make most of your wine.” Ryan commented.

  “He keeps the people happy, my lord. Festivals, musicians, magnificent arts… My mother dares call him a fool: distracting small folk with bright lights and colours while administration rots away. I do not hold her fears, for His Majesty is not the only one concerned with such things.”

  A happy populace does not revolt. Ryan thought it over. It was a clever ruse but one that could only last as long as the King’s wealth… It was good to know the taxes he had collected while on the throne were being squandered.

  “They say he sealed within a labyrinth beneath the castle all the cursed objects and books that you had accumulated. He did not wish for yo - their evil to taint his reign.” The servant paled slightly and smiled nervously. Had the one called the Mad King heard him almost call him evil?

  Ryan ignored the slip, he knew his reputation and was comfortable with it, “I held no cursed objects, but if he has allowed the rot to damage those tomes…” He stopped mid threat and continued through gritted teeth, “But I’m sure His Grace knows of their value.”

  “He built the labyrinth specifically so that their secrets would remain locked away.”

  “Oh he built the labyrinth? News indeed.” Ryan feigned surprise.

  The servant turned and opened a door to a large living area that had a view of the gardens, “May everything be to your taste, My Lord.” He bowed and left.

  Ryan walked out onto the terrace that viewed the gardens. How thoughtful that he had been given a room that was normally disused during the winter. The fire was going but the wooden shutters would do little to keep its heat in. At least the weather here was warm compared to the North. He could still feel the biting wind and bone freezing cold from the night when he had awoken. He did owe Michael his life, but knew it had probably been Lindsay that had convinced her husband to bring him in.

  “Plotting?”

  Ryan turned to see Ray behind him. The man could have easily pursued riches as an assassin, but chose to rule instead.

  Ryan answered, “Reminiscing.”

  Ray scoffed, “Death has made you soft then.”

  “Death can only make one wise or mad.” Ryan repeated the line he had heard years ago.

  “Well you’ve got one of those in the bag.” Ray paused and took in the older man, “Our King’s plan is a noble but foolish one. Were we better men it may work.”

  “Indeed.” Ryan agreed.

  “Why have you come? Surely you could have split from Michael’s side and hidden in the wilds, to bide time, raise an army even… The people have grown complacent; slow, and fat. Easy for one such as you to reap. The East may stand at my side, but they would fall before the return of the Mad King.” Ray made a grandiose gesture, “The small folk fear death, they fear the ghosts of the past, and allow superstition to rule their lives. All of which you have proven to conquer.”

  Ryan raised an eyebrow, “Words that would only come from one who himself was surveying the climate in order to make an attempt on the throne himself.”

  “I’d have to be a bigger fool than the king to not seize such an opportunity. By the right of gold, it should be I on that throne, and I am not one to let such wrongs pass. You were dead. But now here you stand; breath warm and heart beating…”

  “I can see how this has complicated things for you.”

  “Oh do you?” Ray was sarcastic, “No chance of you returning to your tomb and remaining there?”

  “Death was hardly the restful sleep they tell you it will be. You can slip your blade between my ribs, but I will simply return.”

  Amused that he had noticed, Ray reached up his own sleeve and secured the dagger he had freed moments earlier, “Should I fear others from my past returning as well?”

  Ryan watched as the dagger disappeared up his sleeve once more, “I would very much doubt it.”

  “So how did you enjoy death? No chance of you telling how you escaped it perhaps?” Ray leaned against the balcony banister.

  Ryan smiled, “They say dead men tell no tales. Those who say so must have never been dead.” Ryan sighed, “The dead will not be silenced, for they have nothing more to lose.”

  “So they kept you busy at least.”

  “Mostly drivel as well. Speaking of family still living or petty feuds, refusing the gift of freedom they had been given through death.”

  “Says the man who returned from the dead.”

  “I long concerned myself with the living; calling them needy, and self-absorbed. Little did I know the dead were no better. The souls of those I killed were particularly vindictive and eager to chat.”

  “So am I to guess that your next foray into the forbidden will be to kill the already dead?” Ray smiled.

  “Soul devouring does suddenly sound more appealing.” Ryan gave an evil grin that made Ray lose his.

  Ray shook his head, “You truly are mad to even suggest it.” but he feared it was far more than a suggestion.

  “I am willing to endure our King’s wishes for I know his reign is at its end. If it is not by my hand, then it will be by yours, or the people will revolt and demand his head.”

  “The watchful eye of the First will save him from fates most grim, but the throne will not remain his.” Ray partly agreed.

  “Geoff could have at least appeared to have cared when I took the crown away from his precious heirs.” Ryan mused, and could see Ray still held bitter feelings.

  “Yes but sweet Gavin is his favourite.” Ray explained.

  “It seems as if this entire mess is fault of the First King.” Ryan stated and looked to see Ray’s reaction.

  Ray gave a sly smile, he knew of Ryan’s obsession since his second crowning, “I will not aid you in your quest. Insanity does not suit me.”

  “Sanity is subjective, and normalcy boring. Those who say I suffer from madness do not know how I revel in it.”

  “Only strengthening their arguments by saying things like that.”

  “I do not care to argue with those who do not concern me.” Ryan said and turned away.

  “What a fascinating world you must live in.” Ray commented with a mocking smile.

  Ryan turned back to face him but Ray was gone. He smiled, amused, that man could slit all their throats tonight and the guards would be none the wiser.

  No one rested easy that night. Michael and Ryan were the first to fall asleep, exhausted by their travel. The King struggled to sleep, while Geoff paced the empty halls drink in hand. Ray refused to sleep in his assigned quarters and slept among the servants instead, unwilling to be an easy target. Jack questioned his loyalties and fell into a fitful sleep.

  The next morning they were to reconvene and begin preliminary deliberation. Leaving his quarters early, Ryan took a slight detour to pass through the throne room. He frowned at its state. Large pieces of the golden throne had been hacked away, but that was hardly the greatest offence. Draped over the seat was a large hide, and mounted on the wall above was Edgar’s skull.

  He crossed his arms and looked at Edgar’s remains. He had been one of his more successful creations, and he would be lying if he were to say that he hadn’t grown somewhat attached to the murderous beast. When he had pitted his rivals against him he had expected them all to die. It had begun as planned with them all horribly lost within the labyrinth and ripe to be picked off one by one. He had been too confident leaving the armor and weapons of those previously fallen within the maze, and His Highness Gavin had been eager to take advantage of this negligence.

  He walked across the room and remembered his final battle with the now king. Gavin’s blade had disabled his right arm and it was in that moment that Ryan knew he had lost the fight. The next strike plunged the blade into his gut. Ryan hesitated and looked at the stone tiled floor where he had fallen. He was not new to evading death, all kings became accustomed to it, but to crawl out of his tomb in the northern mountains years after his death… that was novel, and something he hoped to avoid having to do again… If he could even do so again. The longer he breathed living air, the less and less he seemed to remember of just what he had done to return. Snippets and flashes of memory came and then quickly fled between his fingers like fish the instant he tried to grasp them.

  If the servant’s gossip was correct about Gavin sealing his possessions within his labyrinth, then he would have to ask for them back. The sooner he returned to his experiments and studies, the sooner he could work on figuring it all out.

 He heard the twang of a bow and whipped around to face the sound. He exclaimed as an arrow buried itself deeply in his right breast.

  There was movement in public gallery above as a figure turned to flee. Ryan extended his arm in a grabbing motion towards the figure. They were stopped in their tracks by an invisible force. He quickly pulled his arm back and the figure was violently dragged down from the gallery. They hit the stone tile of the throne room floor with a loud thud and forced exhale.

  The figure’s face was fully covered except for their eyes, and their clothing was mostly dark grey and black. They had their bow and tried to nock it clumsily, still disoriented from the impact of the fall.

  With a grimace Ryan snapped the shaft of the arrow embedded in his chest and quickly made his way towards the dark clothed figure. He coughed and could taste the metallic tang of blood at the back of his throat. Removing the arrow was not an option, it was plugging the wound and stopping the lung it had pierced from filling with blood.

  As Ryan approached the figure gave up on the bow and instead armed themselves with a dagger in each hand. They attempted to right themselves but a solid kick to the ribs flipped them back onto the ground.

  Ryan stomped down on one of their hands forcing them to let go of one dagger. The figure immediately swung their other arm around aiming for Ryan’s thigh. Ryan deflected the swipe and punched the figure directly in the face, breaking their nose. He tore off the black fabric covering their face revealing a bloody scrawny man.

  The man didn’t hesitate and kicked back Ryan in order regain his footing. He brought his dagger back around and breathed through his mouth, occasionally spitting blood. He was clearly a well-trained assassin that had not been expecting a close quarter fight.

  “Who sent you?” Ryan wheezed and fought the disorienting vertigo growing in the back of his brain.

  The man opened his mouth revealing no tongue. He was a Silenced Sword, a member of an elusive group of assassins that took secrecy so seriously that they cut out the tongues of their initiates. They were expertly trained from a young age to remain unseen.

  Ryan had thought their order eradicated during the Red King’s rule; Ray had a well-known distaste of all who called themselves Silent Swords for reasons known only to him. Yet here one stood.

  The assassin charged him with his dagger. Ryan held his ground and met the man head on. The man feigned a slash only to turn it into a stab, but Ryan stepped back and caught his arm. With the man off balance he pulled him forward into a raised knee. Once more the man had all the wind knocked out of him and let go of his dagger as he collapsed. Ryan ensured both daggers were far from his grasp, and kicked downwards forcing the man the rest of the way down to the floor.

  The man lay face down and unmoving, but raspy breathing signaled that he still lived.

  Ryan broke out into a coughing fit and swayed. He was beginning to cough up blood and felt as if his legs could no longer support him. As he clumsily rested his weight on the closest pillar he heard hurried footfalls storm into the room.

  “Ryan!” Jack shouted as he saw him slowly slide down the pillar. He rushed over with four guards close behind him.

  Ryan grabbed the remaining half of the arrow shaft. With a loud moan he pulled it free and instantly his mouth filled with blood. Each breath was shallow and made a horrific gurgle.

  Jack ordered his men over to the black clothed assassin, while he himself pulled Ryan’s arm onto his shoulder to help him stand.

  “Hold on Ryan…” Jack muttered and tried to lead him away, but Ryan fought the action. He turned to see that Ryan had used his own blood to paint a strange symbol on the pillar he had been using for support.

  Ryan gave Jack a blood covered smile that turned malicious when his eyes landed on the assassin. He slapped his hand down on the symbol. The blood charred and fell away, leaving behind scorch marks on the stone.  He spat out a final mouthful of blood and straightened, taking his arm back from Jack.

  He wiped off his mouth and spoke to Jack, “Castle security is lacking it seems.” His voice was hoarse but regaining strength.

  Jack frowned, and turned away to watch his men roll the assassin over. As they rolled him over they revealed a pool of blood beneath his chest. They looked at the arrow wound in his right breast and checked to see if he was still alive.

  “He’s dead, Captain.” One of the guards removed their hand from the man’s wrist. He then moved on to investigate the body, “No tongue either, sir.”

  Jack looked back at Ryan, now standing tall and uninjured, with an accusatory look, “What happened here?”

  “A man was sent to kill me, so I returned the favour.” Ryan answered dryly.

  Jack’s frown deepened, “We could have questioned him, or am I to presume you have some ritual to figure that out as well?”

  “He was a Silenced Sword. He would divulge nothing.” Ryan explained with a wave of his hand, “So I put his life to use.”

  One of the guards approached Jack, and gave Ryan a bow, before speaking, “What are your orders, Captain?”

  “We’ll need to deal with this breach of security. Start questioning the castle guard and inform the royal guard to stay vigilant. As for this assassin, dispose of him, but not before searching him for anything that could help us find out who’s responsible."  Jack ordered.

  "Let silverfish feast on his flesh.” Ryan muttered.

   “His Highness has exterminated the city’s silverfish population.” Jack informed him with a small smile.

  Ryan let out a hard singular laugh, “At great expense, no doubt.”

  Two of the guards grabbed the body and began to take it away. Jack ordered one of the remaining two guards to run ahead and inform the King that he and Ryan would be late. 

  Jack turned to the one remaining guard, “Accompany Lord Haywood to his quarters so he may clean himself. Be his sword.”

  The guard bowed.

  Ryan rolled his eyes, “I need no sword but my own.”

  Jack didn’t have time for this argument, “His Highness has decreed you remain unarmed within these walls, so unarmed you will remain. Regardless, you seem to fare fine without.” He gestured to the hole in Ryan’s shirt surrounded by drying blood, but no wound. He turned to walk away.

  “I would prefer NOT to fare without!” Ryan shouted after him.

  “Discuss it with the king!” Jack shouted back without turning around.

  The guard hurried to keep up with Ryan’s determined pace down the hall, but didn’t dare speak up.

  Ryan heard the man struggling to keep pace in his armor, and would have slowed, but he still had adrenaline pumping through his system and felt as if he wasn’t moving fast enough.

  Eventually his nerves did die down and he slowed his pace, suddenly feeling exhausted. The guard radiated relief as he huffed along behind him. They reached his quarters not too long after and Ryan ordered the guard to wait by the door as he went in to clean himself and change his clothes.

  Most of the clothes he had been given were ill fitting and the best fitting ones were those now soiled. He searched through the silks and although they were fine, they were not his. Settling on an outfit that could be worn in a baggier style he set off to the basin to scrub off blood. He became frustrated trying to remove blood from his beard and settled on shaving it off instead. The rest cleaned more easily, with the exception of around his nails, and the still yellowish tint to his teeth. Those would disappear by the next day.

  He dried off and dressed himself once again before stepping out into the hall to rejoin his guard. He took a more casual pace this time, and the guard’s relief was palatable.

  They met up with Jack who was returning with an entire guard squadron in tow.

  Jack ordered them to go and surround the King’s Hall at every entrance and window. He turned to Ryan as he approached the main door, “This is on me, and if someone else gets attacked-”

  “We all have more enemies than most, but our most dangerous foes are those within that room. Do yourself a favour and station the guards inside, so that they may stop us from tearing each other apart.” Ryan gave a tired smile, he knew tempers would become heated, but doubted that any of those within would risk attacking another with the rest present.

  Jack shook his head, “Don’t temp me to put you all in adjacent cells so that you can remain civil.” He looked towards Ryan, “I swear by the ancients I’ll do it.” He motioned for Ryan to enter first.

  Ryan pushed open the door and walked through with Jack close behind. All eyes were on the two of them as they took their seats.

  “Captain Pattillo, if you could fill us in? We received your messenger informing us of your delay, and we can’t help but notice the increased presence of guards.” Ray asked politely before anyone else had the chance.

  Jack nodded to Ryan, and began to explain to the group, “Your Highness, there was an attack within the throne room. A man made an attempt on Lord Haywood’s life. Had their target been most anyone else, the outcome would have been less fortunate.” He slipped into his seat and continued, “Lord Haywood took an arrow to the right breast at close range, before managing to disarm the man and _return the favour_.”

  All eyes were inspecting Ryan.

  It was Gavin who spoke first, “And yet how was it only an attempt?! Who hired the man? Surely you didn’t kill him without questioning him?”

  Jack looked to Ryan to answer, “When we found the man he had no tongue.”

  Ray straightened in his seat.

  "To clarify he had no tongue before I retaliated.“ Ryan wanted to ensure they understood, "His dark garb and lack of tongue would identify him as a Silenced Sword. He fired from the gallery, and I used his death to delay my own.”

  Michael looked to the clearly flustered Ray, “I thought Lord Narvaez-”

  “I did.” Ray interrupted, “I flushed the kingdom clean of that order. Someone must have heard the tales and decided begin anew.”

  “Or you missed some.” Geoff argued.

  “If I did then they were taking refuge under the mountains or beneath the sea.” Ray retorted. He had placed great reward for Silenced Swords brought before him alive, and then dispatched of them quite publically. The public had only cheered, happy to be rid of the men and women who would kill anyone for gold. It had also tempted the remaining members to be rid of the Red King, and drew them out of the shadows and directly onto his sword.

  Geoff changed the subject, “Why were you in the throne room anyway, Ryan?”

  Ryan wasn’t pleased to be interrogated, but answered, “To pay my respects to a dear pet.”

  Gavin averted his gaze.

  “When were you going to inform us of the state of the throne? Or is this just some well-known fact that I missed out on in death?” Ryan changed the subject again.

  “So it’s true then?” Ray spoke, “I myself have not seen it, but heard rumours of its sorry state.”

  “We are not here today to discuss the throne!” Gavin silenced them, “Or at least not the physical chair, because that’s all it bloody is. A chair.”

  “And the crown a hat.” Michael muttered to Ray who smiled in response.

  Ryan overheard, “Any fool can craft or steal a crown and claim to rule.”

  Geoff nodded, “But they will hold no power unless the people decide to follow.”

  “Even the most powerful require an army to force their will if the people are unwilling.” Michael added.

  “Why do you think I propose cooperation? A shared rule. Where we will not tear the kingdom apart through war, each with soldiers loyal to them. I hold no delusion that there are those who would choose to support another’s rule. A five or six sided civil war? Surely none of you here would wish that?” Gavin pleaded.

   “A noble proposition, your Highness, but one not easily accomplished.” Jack commented, “The logistics alone and disputes over authority should matters concern more than just one portion of the kingdom-”

  “I’ll admit that it seems improbable at this time, but must we not at least try?” Gavin proposed.

  “This reeks of desperation. What value does a shared rule give me, if I have the armies of the East willing to take the throne for me?” Ray asked, blatantly laying down his plan.

  “Once again he assumes we put our own ambitions behind the needs of the many…” Michael explained to Ray.

  “There are many methods to rule. And we each have our own. At every decision we will clash and grind all progress to a halt. That seems the more selfish outcome: putting our differences before the people, simply in order to share a title…” Ryan mused.

  “And what would you rather have? Need I even ask?” Geoff said lazily.

  “You all intimately know my stance on the matter I am sure, but it seems that I am more willing to concede than others here… at least should my terms be met.” Ryan responded.

  “And just what terms are those?” Geoff sat up suddenly interested.

  Ryan addressed Gavin, “My Liege, I will loyally rule the South on the condition my belongings be returned to me and my studies allowed to continue uninterrupted.”

  “I’m against that.” Michael said almost immediately.

  Gavin went a bit wide eyed and looked to Geoff.

  Geoff spoke on his behalf, “Your tomes and tools were destroyed. I saw to it personally.”

  Ryan gave a small smirk, “How unfortunate then that I heard they were simply locked away… Of course there were items that I myself was unable to destroy even when determined to do so. If I may at least have those returned for safe keeping? I would feel much better knowing they were not capable of falling into the wrong hands.”

  “Some would say your hands are the wrong hands.” Jack stated.

  “Then rest assured knowing they no longer exist.” Geoff said with finality.

  “My apologies then, my Liege, I stand corrected and thus amend my terms as such: My studies continue and any and all items I collect, whether they are remains of what was once mine or newly acquired, remain in my possession uncontested.” Ryan placed his hand on his chest and bowed his head.

  Both Geoff and Gavin knew that Ryan’s possessions were in a sorry state, but far from destroyed and instead sealed within his labyrinth. If Gavin were to agree to his terms he knew Ryan was the sort of man who would tear the castle down to the last flagstone in pursuit of what he saw as his. If Ryan did truly believe his items were around, he would find them quickly, exposing Geoff as a liar all while regaining an uncomfortable amount of arcane power. Should he deny his terms, he would only solidify Ryan’s determination that they did indeed have his possessions, and once again the castle would end up torn apart. Gavin didn’t enjoy either scenario, and knew the longer it took him to answer the more suspicious Ryan would become. However there was a chance that Ryan was willing to be true to his word. Many of the rumours that had surrounded the Mad King had been born of his tendency to lock himself away for days, or even weeks at a time. He was a recluse, and therefore hopefully happy if left to his own devices. Indeed his devices were less than favourable, and it was difficult to separate the fanciful tales from factual as to just what he had done, but it would have to be risked.

  Gavin cleared his throat, “Ry- Lord Haywood, I accept your terms on the condition that nothing comes of your studies that is used to usurp the power of another.”

  Ryan nodded, “That was implied, my Liege. Thank you for your generosity.”

  Gavin did not like how polite the man was being. It was too agreeable, and each time he called him his Liege it made him uncomfortable.

  “You are insane!” Michael shouted at the king, “Has your rule wiped your memory?”

  “Michael has accurately stated my sentiments, but I feel it requires repeating: Have you lost your mind to the wine?” Ray asked the king before he turned to Ryan, “Ryan, we’ve had our truces in the past, successfully I may add, and I know you are a man capable of keeping his word, but this? Could you truly resist such temptation should you find whatever power it is you seek?”

  “I know my character is often a topic of debate, but should you ask anyone they would tell you I pursue the impossible. Let me busy myself and you needn’t worry of such a time.” Ryan calmly told the table.

  “Gavin, know that I strongly disagree with this.” Geoff warned.

  “You keep your word Ryan and I will keep mine, but should you act out, remember that you yourself stated that we outnumber you, and with your ousting as a common cause, we would eagerly work together.” Gavin threatened.

  Jack scoffed.

  “What?” Gavin asked him.

  Jack shook his head, “Not to sabotage the proceedings, but having watched each of you rule, I know that a little something called probability has never stopped any of you before. What were all of you but individual dissidents when you seized the throne?” Geoff looked to him unimpressed, “Except for you of course Lord Ramsey, without you there would be no kingdom and the land would be barren.”

  “And your aid has been instrumental in that regard, Jack.” Geoff nodded, “I wouldn’t have kept you around this long otherwise.” Geoff smiled.

  Jack chuckled, “Longer than any mortal man has the right to be. I am grateful.”

  “So my question still remains unanswered; why should I settle for just the East when I have an army?” Ray brought the conversation back. 

  “Because I also have an army, and my fealty lies with our King.” Michael crossed his arms, “Our combined resources could starve your people and cripple your ports. The East may be rich, but we’ll see how long that gold can feed you when we block all trade.”

  Ray smiled, “An amusing notion, but how will the king pay his soldiers when it is our banks who hold his coin? Will the soldier be loyal to king or coin?”

  “The nobles of the East will lay in any bed for enough coin. At the first scent of war they would flee overseas with their wealth and drain the kingdom of much needed gold.” Ryan intruded into the conversation, “Or am I incorrect in assuming that the royal treasury has seen better days?”

  Gavin looked angered, “Undoing the damage of your reign was hardly inexpensive! Your taxes had the nobility threatening revolt, and with you dead they were ready to do just that!”

  Ryan’s voice gained a steel edge and all guise of pleasantry left his eyes, “And whose fault was my death?”

  “Ah there’s the Ryan we all know. I was worried death might have changed you.” Geoff mocked.

  Ryan leaned back in his chair with a snort.

  The rest of the proceedings followed suit, and little agreement was had, but some progress was made. It left Gavin hopeful that further progress would be possible and he dismissed them all before tempers could get too high. They would meet again on the morrow to continue deliberations.

  They all left to their quarters, some having a harder time cooling down than others. Ryan saw this as an opportunity to visit the labyrinth and investigate the rumours. After strapping on his sword and arming himself until he felt comfortable facing the unknown darkness, he carefully made his way to the entrance of the catacombs deep beneath the castle.

  He had been careful to avoid any other soul wandering the halls as Jack was still strictly enforcing that they remain unarmed. It would not be easy to explain. The catacombs had a reputation of housing hostile creatures when left alone and he preferred to be ready to face the worst.

  Pulling open the heavy Iron door he stepped down into the torch lit gloom. The torches illuminated only the stairs, and at their base Ryan pulled one out of its bracket to take with him. The stone tombs of numerous nobles and esteemed individuals lined the maze-like pathways. Normally such a catacomb would house the kings long passed but with the kingdom’s first king being immortal, responsibility of filling the graves fell to non-royals.

 The flickering torchlight cast moving shadows over the statues of winged beasts and mourning mothers. It truly was a “maze before the maze” and had he not known the path, he would have easily become lost. He reached the location of the Labyrinth’s entrance, or what had once been the entrance. It was now a smooth stone wall that seamlessly flowed into the stonework on either side.

  He brought the torch closer and ran a hand over the stone. It was hardly enough to keep him out, but thinking back he realized that with his death they hadn’t exactly aimed to prevent him from returning. No looter or wanderer would easily break through; especially with no tools.

  Hearing a scuff on the stone floor behind him, Ryan whipped around and had his sword half drawn as a second torch ignited to reveal Geoff leaning on a carved gargoyle.

  Ryan chuckled and took his hand off his sword, allowing it to slip back into its sheath, “Geoff.” He greeted pleasantly.

  Geoff straightened and passed his torch to his other hand, “Your labyrinth is gone. Destroyed. You will find nothing within its stone.” His voice was stern.

  “That yet remains to be seen. I am a resourceful man an-” Ryan’s words were cut short when an invisible force picked him up and threw him, pinning him to the catacomb wall.

  Geoff advanced on him, “Remember that you are nothing but a man.”

  Ryan smirked and readied himself to strike back but the sound of shifting stone stopped him. This was no proper arena and they would bring the castle down on them both. He let himself remain against the wall, “Then will it be all the more embarrassing for you, being bested by a mere man?” He felt the force tighten its grip and it forced an undignified wheeze from him.

  Geoff was in no mood for Ryan’s wit, “As you yourself acknowledged; you seek the impossible. I will enjoy watching the forces you believe you wield devour you.”

  Ryan shrugged the best he could in his position, “Then allow me to entertain you, unless of course you do indeed fear what I may learn?”

  “You speak so boldly, when you are nothing but a fool with toys-”

  “Leave the fool to his play, then.” Ryan cut him short, “I fear not death, nor the wrath of what gods there may be.”

  “If you fear nothing then you are rightly named mad.” Geoff muttered.

  “You all say these things as if I should care what you think of me. In case you haven’t figured it out by now, all your opinions of me are no more a nuisance than a buzzing gnat. Let the rumours propagate and the tales spread! Fear keeps the masses in line and gifts me time to myself. It is a tool, and to know what others fear is to have power over them.”

  “So then what do I fear? Hmm?” Geoff asked.

  “Like most you fear death.”

  “Oh really?” Geoff was amused by the notion.

  “Death of those you care for, the demise of your heirs. You wear a mask of apathy towards them, yet do everything in your power to protect them. Deny it all you wish, but the apathy you cultivated towards mankind does not extend to them. That, and, well… You fear your peers.”

  The invisible force released Ryan and he fell to the stone floor. He picked himself up and dusted off his robes.

  “I would like to know what it is that you believe you know.” Geoff inquired.

  Ryan gave a noncommittal gesture, “Not as much as I would like to know, but I know the five of you shaped the world how it is today, and that they continue to shape the lands across the oceans, leaving you to do as you please.  Among their ranks you are the weakest, and pleaded with them for a canvas of your own. They gave you this land which you turned into a kingdom, and they could at any time take it back.” Ryan could tell Geoff was working to keep his face from giving any hint of emotion away, “I know their names as well: Sorola, Heyman, Hullum, and Burns.”

  Geoff stepped back in utter disbelief, “How?”

  Ryan smiled once more, specifically because he knew it would irritate Geoff, “They call death an eternal rest, but I saw it as an opportunity to venture where flesh and bone had once made it impossible. That, and the dead are impossible to silence. It’s mostly tripe regarding loved ones but every so often you find an older soul willing to recount tales to any eager listener. Gavin did me a kindness really; I found so many missing pieces to my puzzles on the other side of the veil.” And now armed with those pieces Ryan would search for where they fit.

  “I should be rid of you while I can. Throw you to the Nether.”

  “The Nether? How else do you think I gathered Ghast tears; bought them in the market? You could not trap me there without trapping yourself… or have I driven you to such desperation?” Ryan taunted.

  Geoff raised his voice, “Then to the End with you!”

  “A journey I myself have been trying to make, but this continent is sadly lacking in the resources required for an End portal. Humour me, and you will see me return within the next decade wearing the hide of the Great Dragon.”

  Ryan’s smug demeanor was going to drive Geoff to violence, but he reminded himself that this was neither the place nor time, “Consider yourself fortunate then that your soul is so damaged disposing of it would only benefit you, or I’d rend it.”

  “A comfort to know I still have a soul, when so many claim otherwise.” Ryan gave a shallow bow in thanks.

  “You’re a twisted bastard, Ryan. Break down the stone if you wish. Just know that I will be watching every damn twitch from you, and _when_ you betray us I will spare no effort nor expense in destroying you.” Geoff warned.

  Ryan nodded, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Geoff snuffed the fire of his torch with a motion of his hand and disappeared into the darkness.

  Ryan turned back to the stone wall and ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. That had been a most unfortunate encounter, and was blessed he had managed to talk his way out of it without grievous bodily harm.

  He inspected the stone once more; it didn’t appear to have become weight bearing, but the true test would be once he removed it. He tested it gently with his fist and cracks spider-webbed outwards. He removed his hand to see if the stone would shift when the rock began emitting a chorus of hisses.

  Ryan jumped back drawing his sword and placing his torch before him defensively just as the stone wall crumbled away to a fine dust and out spilled over a dozen rat sized carapace covered creatures. Ten legged, armoured, and ravenous they immediately came towards him drawn by the light and his scent.

  Cursing loudly, he swung his torch towards them. The flame grew and billowed forwards, cooking the silverfish within their shells. A few managed to flee the fire and burrowed into nearby tombs to seek shelter. Silverfish were ambush predators and once hidden would not attack again until disturbed. Ryan hated the things, but so did most.

  He wiped his brow, “Glad to know the coin that went to exterminating silverfish within the city was well spent.” he muttered angrily to the shadows as he ventured forward into the revealed passage.

  The labyrinth had been of his own design so when he found the path taking a turn where it shouldn’t have, he paused and began to question his memory. Had Geoff altered the maze? He stepped back and looked around. He was deep within the maze and it would not make sense for the path to be altered now and not earlier. He followed the strange turn taking note of the return path, and after taking a couple more corners realized that the path had indeed been altered, but only in this immediate vicinity. It wasn’t a change in maze route so much as a displacement; as if a sealed room had been created within. Only he who knew the labyrinth intimately would notice how the path wrapped around and avoided this central area.

  He turned towards the offending wall and held his torch before him ready to fight off any beasts that might lie within the rock. A section of stone crumbled at his touch but no silverfish came pouring out, much to Ryan’s relief.

  His deductions had been correct and he revealed the hidden room. Stepping within, his torch illuminated the many rows of shelving that held numerous tomes, artifacts, and instruments. Some even emitted their own light giving the shadows a strange otherworldly quality.

  He breathed in the musty paper scented air and reveled in the familiarity as he picked his way down between the first two rows of shelving. These books had taken years to find and acquire, and he couldn’t help but laugh in relief upon learning that they were still whole.

  Most were heavily enchanted resulting in what could only be accurately described as individual personalities. Each had its quirks and most refused to divulge their content without very specific circumstances being met. Whether it was a lunar phase, eclipse, blood tribute, or simply patience - figuring out what the books wanted before they were willing to share was always an ordeal. Blood was popular, and some demanded more than a drop or were not sated by just any blood. His own blood worked for most, but none came with instructions and experimentation was necessary. One would only reveal its text when submerged in flowing spring water. Another would teleport away to the nearest shadow when exposed to light, leaving behind a cloud of purple ender sparks.

  A personal favourite was a small alchemist’s journal that needed to be gently coerced to open, much like having to convince a scared kitten out from under a bed. There was also one bound in a thick scaly hide that would switch its location with another object in the room each time you dared to look away.

  He saw one bound in the skin and teeth of the undead and smiled remembering how it had once latched onto Jack’s leg and refused to let go. Pattillo was always wearing his armour, so no injury was had, but it scared him considerably. Ryan’s library was frequented much less by the man after that.

  Ryan reached the far end of the room and saw many of his tools and instruments haphazardly stacked on top of each other. Many were damaged or broken, but some seemed to have only acquired dust. He’d have to spend considerable time and money to replace them and rebuild the ones that were of his own design.

  There was one object that he wanted to find first as it would aid in inspecting the others. After a few minutes of searching aided only by his torch he found the silk lined wooden box that held it. He squinted and slowly opened the medium sized container. The room was flooded by light as bright as day, generated by what was within.

  Some of the books were startled or simply displeased by the sudden light and leapt from their shelves with a flutter and clatter.  One on the far side of the room began emitting a low hiss.

  The object was a fist-sized rough-hewn orb of rare nether glowstone, and it bathed the room in warm shining light. Glowstone had many uses, but this orb he had reserved to use as a light source. Glowstone was only rivalled by the sun when it came to illumination, and the room now held little shadow.

  He placed it down on one of its dented surfaces so it did not roll away, and began to search the shelves for what he considered the most important books in the room. They would be thinner than most, bound in leather, plain looking, and written in his own hand. His journals contained all he knew and the details of every experiment and ritual performed. He was no fool and had used an encryption of his own making to prevent curious eyes from gleaning anything from them. If they were gone, it was truly a loss indeed; they contained over a decade of his knowledge.

  The search became more fevered with each row of shelves he inspected without success, until he finally found one. It was only the one, and the fourth in his series, but it motivated him to continue his search.

  He didn’t know how long he searched, but by the end he had gathered eleven of twelve journals, and the only one missing was the most recent. His most recent journal was one that was often either on him or in his study. He couldn’t recall if he had had it on him when he died, and the other option of searching the King’s study was not likely to be received well by King Free.  It had been many years since his death, so he ruled out the priests remembering what possessions he had had on him. Even then, the priests burned the deceased clothes as part of the funeral ceremony, and if his journal had been in among his robes…

  He shook his head and hoped it had not been destroyed. It would have contained his search for the city’s most ill-mannered bull and the details of Edgar’s creation.

  Slightly disappointed he emptied a small chest of glass decanters and filled it with his journals instead. It had small handles on either side and was easy to carry. He would have to move all his books and tools eventually, but for now he felt the journals were most important to take with him.

  He returned the glowstone back to its box, much to the relief of some books and to the annoyance of others. He tucked the chest under one arm and held the torch with his other as he made his way out of the room and into the labyrinth. He debated sealing the room with stone once more, but decided that resealing the entrance to the labyrinth itself was of more use. It wasn’t much later when he pushed open the heavy catacomb door and emerged blinking into the castle.

  The first window he passed he checked to see the time of day and only hurried his pace when he saw the morning sun rising. He had been underground for the whole night and hoped that it wasn’t visible on him, as they would be having breakfast together in the great hall. He needed to rush back to his quarters, wash up, change, and stow his journals somewhere safe.

  Managing to do so in what he felt was record time he jogged towards the great hall, slowing his pace slightly before, so it would not be apparent that he had been rushing.

  He reached the entrance to the hall and was immediately stopped by all the guards at the door. He was confused and then immediately angry at himself.

  “My Lord, by the King’s orders you are not permitted your weapons within the castle halls.” One guard spoke.

  Ryan gave a massive sigh of frustration as he removed his sword belt and daggers. He allowed them to check him for any additional weapons and was tempted to comment that he hardly needed them if he truly wished someone dead.

  With bows and apologies the guards finally allowed him to pass, and he entered.

  At the main table sat the King, Michael, and Ray waiting on the kitchens.

  Ryan entered and gave a deep bow to the king, “Splendid morning, my liege, it seems spring may have finally shown its face.” He straightened, “And what of Lord Ramsey, and Captain Pattillo?”

  Gavin gave a stiff nod in greeting, “They are attending to matters regarding the infiltration of castle security yesterday. Even though you still live, I am treating it as a murder. You are all my guests and thus under my protection; whether you feel it necessary or not. Had that arrow hit anyone else we would be at a funeral.”

  Ryan seated himself, “I never asked, but how was my funeral? I assume there was one, seeing as I was properly entombed.”

  “Certainly less joyous in retrospect, had we then known it was but a temporary state.” Michael said bluntly.

  “It would have dulled the celebration indeed.” Ray added with a smile.

  Gavin didn’t feel he was in a position to make light of Ryan’s death, “Jack held silent vigil for you in the temple before you were carted off to the north. There was no public ceremony; merely an announcement.”

  Ryan was taken aback by the knowledge that Jack had stood silently for a whole day and night watching over his body as was custom for nobles of note, “Pattillo?”

  “He insisted.” Michael clearly had similar confused feelings about the matter.

  Ray nodded, “Jack is our better, and only if there were more men like he in power.”

  “Men like Jack do not seek power; they simply accept it when it is required of them.” Ryan explained.

   A servant hurried from the kitchen, clearly worried. They approached Gavin with a low bow and whispered something to him.

  Gavin nodded and waved them away. He looked back to the men before him and cleared his throat, “It seems our meal is to be delayed; our taster has fallen horribly ill.”

  Ryan looked to Ray who made a face stating that he wasn’t dumb enough to try such a thing.

  “And they are sure it’s poison? Do they know the kind?” Ray inquired. He had an intimate knowledge of toxins and spent much time ensuring he remained immune.

  “They do not know, but will watch to see what symptoms develop.” Gavin answered. He shook his head and whined, “Could we stop trying to kill each other for one day? Is that so much to ask?”

  “Not to be the bearer of bad news, but seeing the state of the kingdom and its treasury, I would not limit the list of those who want you dead to only those within the castle.” Ryan’s lip curled upwards into a crooked smirk by the end.

  “Don’t look so pleased; that poison may have been meant for you after yesterday’s failure.” Michael told Ryan.

  “Yet the list of those who know I live could be counted off on my fingers. Either it is one of you, or I simply have unfortunate luck.” Ryan got up from the table, “If I may be excused; I will go and seek out my own meal.”

  “I will accompany you to the kitchens to see if I may aid in determining what was added to the food.” Ray announced and followed Ryan out.

  The guards informed Ryan his weapons had been moved down to the safety of the armoury and Ray couldn’t help but smile when Ryan explained to him that he had worn them out of habit.

  “You needn’t be unarmed… simply conceal them better.” He advised Ryan.

  “I don’t need them, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t comforting to have.” Ryan responded.

  Ray scoffed, “Ah yes the Mad King needs no weapons but himself!” He puffed out his chest in imitation of Ryan as they turned towards the kitchens.

  Ryan rolled his eyes, but let the mockery go, “Do not let your confidence in having taken the throne from me once make you believe it will happen again. Much has changed, and your confidence is misplaced.”

  “As I said, if you don’t take the throne, I will. So hurry your usurping along or I’ll plunge the nation into war.” Ray was clearly irritated.

  “As long as your war does not occur with me on the throne. Do not think that I will take such treason lightly. It will mean your death.”

  “Will you find yourself some more pets? Dust off the labyrinth? The death chambers? All such actions rely on you finding me.” Ray didn’t enjoy threats, “You have my word the East will not rise should you sit on the throne, but in exchange we will not stand for your taxation or trade regulation.”

  “You are in no position to make such demands. I will tax and regulate as I see fit, for the Kingdom is broke. Be grateful I even entertain the notion of allowing you to remain in control of the East.” Ryan growled.

  “And what if I were to offer you something in exchange?” Ray stopped walking, forcing Ryan to stop as well.

  Ryan faced him, “And what could you possibly offer me in exchange for the East?! Say my life, and I will end yours now.”

  Ray smiled and made a show of clearing his throat, “’Many may find themselves seeking out necromancy in pursuit of mastery over death, but the true power lies in mastery over life; to mold the world’s creatures to your will as you see fit. That is far more desirable.’ Sound familiar?”

  Ryan was aghast; those were his own words, words he had written down. Words that he had encrypted and hid within his most recent journal, “Where is it?!” He advanced on Ray but stopped himself.

  Ray’s smile didn’t falter, “So you do recognize your own writing. I’ve hidden your journal, and killing me will have you no closer to finding it. It was quite the read, and I admit that when I first picked it off your body it took me some time to decode. I do have some experience in that area, however, as assassins that can’t speak communicate in a variety of symbols and codes.” He had used the Silenced Sword’s own communications against them when he had destroyed their ranks.

  Ryan straightened and took on a more impassive expression, “Well I hope it was a riveting read. You will return it to me immediately and speak nothing of its contents.”

  “It was quite interesting to read into the inner workings of your mind, to see how twisted and warped those cogs truly are. I’ll be the first to admit that even after decoding it, there was much I did not understand, but when are the ramblings of a mad man intelligible? I did learn some fascinating tricks though. My personal favourite:” He brought his hands together in front of him. He curled his right into a fist and a hilt appeared within his hand. As he moved his left away from the right it revealed the long blade of his trusted rapier. When it was fully revealed he swung it around with a flourish before pointing it towards Ryan.

  Ryan stepped back out of reach of the blade, “And a cute trick is all that is.”

  Ray shrugged, “That’s only a taste of what I’ve managed to figure out so far. Who knows how much I can learn given time?”

  Ryan chuckled, “And do you truly believe you can stand against me with a half-finished journal of my own writing?” He slowly started walking towards Ray.

  Ray put up his hand to halt Ryan’s advance and shook his head, “No I do not, but I know of a certain immortal who would love to learn the subjects of your studies. And he very much can stand against you. Keep it in mind when you deal with the East.” He reversed the gesture that had revealed his sword and it disappeared once again.

  Ryan’s lip twitched, but his voice remained calm and he spoke slowly, “You will give me my journal and I will forget that you ever threatened me, or you will come to deeply regret this exchange.”

  Ray gave an exaggerated bow ignoring what Ryan had said, “Do tell me, do you still bleed black or has death healed you?”

  Ray was thrown back into the wall. Before he had a chance to react, Ryan was on top of him with his forearm compressing Ray’s throat.

  Ray raised a small throwing knife covered in Ryan’s blood, “No, it’s red again.” He gasped for air.

  Ryan dropped him and grabbed his bleeding side. It was a short blade so the wound was shallow and non-life threatening but it provided the distraction Ray required.

  The instant Ryan dropped him; Ray was down the hall and leapt out through a castle window to the grounds beyond. Ryan raced to follow him but once he reached the open window he saw no trace of him, and instead yelled out in frustration and pain.

  Ryan put his hand firmly over the wound and concentrated. Heat began to build beneath his hand until it felt as if a hot brand had been placed onto his skin. He retracted his hand and tried to shake the pain out as he used his other to inspect the now sealed wound. It wasn’t a perfect job as there remained a pale scar, but it was healed and no longer in pain.

  He could very much feel his hunger now; healing spells drained the caster significantly even for the smallest of wounds. It was much easier to simply inflict the same wound on another and steal their health, as he had with the assassin. Ray had quickly dashed away, and those spells worked on line of sight to function correctly, otherwise they could backfire spectacularly.

  Ryan continued towards the kitchens while massaging his hand with the thumb of the other. He stepped in to a flurry of activity from servants rushing to dispose of any and all tainted food while preparing a second meal from fresh ingredients. His presence was paid little attention with the hurry to feed the king safe food.

  He tore off a piece of bread and pulled aside a servant. The servant almost told him off but noticed his clothing and gave a rushed bow instead.

  “I’m sorry m’lord, but this is no good time to seek food in these kitchens.” The servant mumbled as she continued to wash off a counter.

  “I am here regarding that. Have you any of the tainted food?” Ryan asked.

  The servant appeared worried and bowed, “Very sorry m’lord, but it has all been thrown to the fires.”

  “Already? Has none remained for investigation?”

  The servant remained in the bow and her voice shook, “It was dangerous so it was removed before its taint could spoil the rest. T’was seen as for the best.”

  Ryan couldn’t blame the servants for doing so; they were in quite the panic. Watching the taster fall ill…

  “Where is the King’s taster?” Ryan asked the servant.

  The servant pointed down towards the kitchen staff quarters, “In her cot, and faring most poorly.”

  Ryan dismissed the servant and left towards the kitchen staff quarters.  He had been the one to introduce the role of royal taster during his first rule, as the previous king did not require it. The taster was seen as disposable, and needed to be someone who was highly sensitive to any chemicals added to food. This meant the role was filled by a young child, most often an orphan. It was during his second rule that he removed the position as he felt he no longer required it, but it seemed that Gavin had found it necessary for his reign.

  He finished his bread as he walked. Once in the servant quarters it was little trouble to follow the pained moans and cries to the correct room.

  The door swung open with a long creak to reveal a small servant girl writhing in her cot. A male servant sat next to her dabbing her sweaty forehead with a cold cloth. He turned to see who had entered, and upon seeing Ryan’s clothing, quickly stood and bowed.

  Ryan waved him away and the man quickly scurried from the room with his head bowed.

  The servant girl was clutching at her gut and from the smell in the room it was clear she had been vomiting as well. She was too absorbed in her discomfort to notice Ryan’s approach.

  He checked her pulse. It was weak and much too quick. He pulled up an eyelid to reveal a heavily dilated eye that appeared almost fully black.

  Ryan mentally ran through the symptoms; he was no expert on poisons like Ray, but his guess would be a poison derived from monkshood. It had clearly been concentrated to disable as quickly as it had, and the child had maybe an hour or two to live.

  With a small wave of his hand the door to the room closed behind him. He gently grabbed her trembling form and rolled her onto her stomach. She tried to resist, but her limbs were weak and feeling numb. If Ryan had to guess, she hadn’t even seen her sixth year yet.

  He pulled up her shirt to reveal her back. If he was correct about it being monkshood based, then it would attack her lungs and kill her that way. He placed his hand on her cold and clammy skin just below the shoulder blades.

  Children were the only innocent ones in this world, and were worth saving.

  She began to scream, but Ryan kept his hand firmly on her and prevented her struggling from dislodging him.

  He had always found it amusing that most often the healing process hurt more than the injury itself, but it seemed to be the price one paid in avoiding death.

  He grimaced at the shrill sound of her screams; for someone so small and weak she still had a mighty voice.

  Some servants shouted and pounded on the door asking what was going on. Their pounding only became more fervent as the screams continued, but the door did not budge. 

  Red welts appeared all over the girl’s back. They grew red and angry, crisscrossing her back as if she had felt the whip. The skin covering each one began to blister and fill with a vile yellowish fluid.

  She pleaded for the pain to stop as the blisters grew until they split and spilled the putrid liquid. Ryan still held her down to prevent her from turning over as he reached over for the cloth the other servant had been using to wipe her brow. He used it to clean her wounded back and her cries calmed into hiccoughs.

  She was still whining loudly but even with her sore and raw back she could tell that she felt better.

  Ryan removed his hand from her and stood, so that she may right herself as she saw fit. She sat straight up in her cot and looked at Ryan with eyes no longer black. She was still crying and hiccoughing, and tears ran down her face but otherwise she seemed fine. He used a clean side of the cloth to wipe his hand and was disappointed in himself with how long that had taken. He was incredibly out of practice and wasn’t looking forward to working himself back to where he had once been.

  He released the door and two guards spilled into the room followed by the male servant from before.

  Upon seeing the male servant the girl stood and ran over to him to be embraced. The servant held back tears of joy at seeing her bright eyed and standing once more.

  The guards looked around confused and sheathed their swords, not knowing how to react.

  One recognized Ryan and bowed with his fist over his heart, “Lord Haywood, our apologies, we were not aware it was you. This servant ran to us saying that a man was harming the King’s Taster.”

  Ryan tossed the fouled cloth down onto the cot and faced the servant, “Tend to her back, and keep her watered.”

  “Thank you, m’lord!” The male servant said through tears as Ryan left the room.

  Ryan cleaned his hands in one of the kitchen’s wash basins and then began to head towards his quarters. He half hoped he’d run into Ray on the way, but knew that now Ray would be beyond careful to never share the same space as Ryan without others present. Ray had always been a fickle ally, dancing the line of friend and foe. He never allowed his motives to show and was far from afraid of removing those who would delay his actions; innocent or not.

  Ryan had the reputation of murderer but knew that Ray’s hands were stained a deeper red than his.

  He reached his quarters and began pouring over his journals and plotting. He had already sworn his fealty to the King and would rather not break the vow directly. There was always a loophole, and in this case he figured he could use Ray to his advantage. Geoff had been included in the King’s promise of allowing Ryan his belongings. If Ray were to give his journal to Geoff as he had threatened, Geoff would be bound to return it to Ryan when asked. Of course this meant Geoff would have access to the journal’s contents in the meantime, but he hoped Ray didn’t intend to divulge how it was read. It would be in Ray’s advantage not to; he could make a deal for the journal and a second for how it was read. Geoff was not one to patiently figure out a puzzle and would quickly become frustrated and willing to accept Ray’s second deal.

  Ryan thought it through; Geoff would be very unwilling to give him back his journal and if he did not, then Ryan’s promises were null. Of course, this still left him with having to get his journal from Geoff while simultaneously having to remove him from the picture in order to leave his path to Gavin unobstructed.

  If Ray’s threats were idle and he intended to use the journal for himself, Ryan could potentially involve the King in resolving the dispute, but Ray would claim innocence and once he hid it, it was good as gone.

  Ryan stood and walked over to his wash basin and attempted to scry the journal. The image of the journal came clearly but its surroundings were invisible. He assumed that Ray had hidden it somewhere that Ryan did not know about, and he had been right.

  There were of course other more involved methods of locating lost items, but they required rituals that were hardly as subtle as scrying. He would set the ritual up, perform it, and then Ray would learn of it and immediately move the journal, rendering the whole process useless. Ryan ran his fingers through his hair. There was also the concern that his peers who were less versed in the arcane would assume him to be performing some ritual far more sinister.

  He uttered a frustrated yell and debated cutting his loses as they were. Eleven of twelve was better than he could have ever hoped for. He scolded himself for not enchanting the journals and simply keeping them mundane. At the time he believed any form of enchantment would only draw attention to the otherwise unassuming leather bound paper.

  He gathered his journals that he had spread around the room and returned them to the chest, uttering a quick sealing spell to prevent its opening. He turned to leave, but had a thought and then added a binding spell on the chest that would prevent it from being removed from its place. For good measure he put his hand on the chest and added yet another spell. This one was a curse that would burn any hand but his if they so much as touched it.

  Satisfied it was secure for now, he went over to his bed with the intention of catching up on some much needed rest. He fell asleep almost instantly, without dreams or discomfort.

  “Wake up!”

  Ryan grunted and rolled over to see Jack standing at the foot of his bed, “Leave me.” He rolled back over.

  “Wake!” Jack shouted.

  A throw pillow hit Ryan in the back of the head with great force, making him turn back and sit up, “What is it?!”

  “You missed today’s meeting, and I come to find to you sleeping?! Of all things?!” Jack was angry.

  “How long has it been?” Ryan looked to his window to see the sun setting and swore.

  “If it’s any comfort, discussion went more smoothly without you there glaring at everyone.” Jack crossed his arms.

  “I only glare when warranted.” Ryan stood to find he had fallen asleep fully dressed. He stretched back cracking a few joints, “A servant could have been sent-”

  Jack spoke over him, “A servant WAS sent. They reported being violently thrown away from your door by an unseen force. The back of his head was bleeding from the impact! It was decided best to leave you be after that.”

  Ryan tried to think back, “I don’t remember that occurring…”

  “Of course not.” Jack paused, “What happened to exhaust you so? Would I even want to know? Sorcery? Dark magics? Do not forget the fealty you pledged!”

  Ryan straightened his hair, “I do not require your scolding. I assume you had another reason to come here? Or do you simply enjoy raising your voice at me?”

  Jack shook his head, “The King wishes to speak to you in his study, so I came to fetch you. Your absence has made everyone wary. Ray in particular seemed worried, but was still hesitant to agree to any of the King’s terms.”

  “So Ray remains the only one unwilling to bend the knee.” Ryan pulled on his boots and fixed his robes.

  “Surprisingly so. If I may speak frankly, upon seeing you enter the room I believed it would be you who would be the most difficult to deal with. Yet you agreed almost immediately. Forgive my suspicion.” Jack stepped aside so that Ryan could walk past him to the main door.

  Ryan made his way over to the door with a yawn, “He agreed to my terms, what cause is there for suspicion?” He put his hand on the door and looked back at Jack, “Or in your mind does the Mad King not bend the knee?”

  Jack pouted, “I find that title as distasteful as you do.” He took a breath, “And having served under you twice, I know nothing is ever as it seems with you. Please do not do anything that would tear the kingdom apart. The people should not suffer for the feuds of the few.”

  Ryan entered the hall with Jack next to him, “Do you ever tire from being so virtuous?”

  Jack frowned deeply, but did not respond, and they started towards the King’s study.

  “Can you frown any harder?” Ryan joked.

  “The kingdom is on its last legs, Ryan. One more blow and it will fall. The people will scatter and there will be no kingdom left to be ruled.” Jack paused, “The people are already fragmented, and if it is not the East, it will be the West, or the South, or even the North. The King did not lie when he said that beneath you the people were united.”

  Ryan stopped walking and looked to Jack, “Do I hear you correctly?”

  Jack appeared flustered, “I do not speak of treachery! Do not misunderstand me! But there is much you could teach the King, and with control of the South would ensure their loyalty in the meantime.”

  “And do you truly believe he would be willing to learn from me?” Ryan didn’t believe he would.

  Jack exhaled, “No, but he might learn simply by ruling next to you, should his plan succeed.”

  Ryan snorted, “I don’t think his arrogance will allow it. He’d sooner-” Ryan cut himself off and turned around abruptly.

  Jack was alarmed and his hand flew to his sword, “What is it?”

  Ryan stood alert, staring down the empty hall, “I sensed someone.” He raised his voice, “Reveal yourself!”

  For a second there was nothing, and then slowly a small child’s head peered around a corner towards them.

  “A child?” Jack’s hand left his sword and he crouched with a smile, “Come now, what are you doing wandering these halls alone?”

  As the young girl left her hiding spot with her hands behind her back, Ryan recognized her as the King’s Taster. Her eyes didn’t leave her feet as she made her way towards them carefully.

  “Come child, your caretaker must be worried, let us take you to the Guard so that they may find where you belong.” Jack reached out towards the girl and she immediately backed up, shaking her head, “No?”

  Instead she looked up and approached Ryan. Once she was near she brought her hands around from behind her. She revealed a well-loved straw stuffed doll and looked at the ground again while holding it towards Ryan.

  Jack straightened and looked to Ryan in amusement and confusion.

  Ryan ignored Jack and crouched to the girl’s level, “That’s a lovely doll, does she have a name?”

  The girl shuffled her feet and refused to meet his eye, “Anna.” She mumbled.

  Ryan smiled kindly, “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Did you make her yourself?”

  The girl nodded and looked up, “Old Donna helped me. She said Anna can keep fear away.” She hugged the doll tightly to her chest, “You just have to hug her tight and nothing can hurt you.”

  Ryan assumed Old Donna was another servant who had spent time with the girl, “Then you should keep Anna close.”

  The girl held up the doll to Ryan once again, “I want you to have her.”

  Ryan was taken aback, “Are you sure? I think Anna would prefer to stay with you.”

  The girl vigorously shook her head and pushed the doll towards him.

  He carefully took the doll, “Thank you, I’m sure she will keep me safe.”

  The girl nodded and turned to go, but stopped herself seeming to remember something. She turned back and gave a clumsy bow, “All hail!” She squeaked and then ran off.

  Ryan stood and raised an eyebrow, looking to Jack.

  Jack was smiling uncontrollably and just shrugged. He knew Ryan held a warm fondness for children, and if anything it was his most redeeming feature, but it still was a jarring experience each time.

  “All hail, huh?” Jack repeated, “I want to know who told her to say that.”

  Ryan shrugged in answer, “It’s a simple enough phrase. Either that or I was recognized by one of her peers.”

  “And why would a servant girl give you her most prized possession?” Jack inquired and they began walking once more.

  Ryan looked the toy over passively; it really was nothing more than a straw stuffed doll, “So you did not recognize her?”

  “Who was she?”

  “The King’s Taster.”

  Jack was confused, “So she recov-” He made the connection, “You?”

  Ryan didn’t even bother to nod.

  Jack was immediately concerned, “You didn’t do anything else to her did you? Make her your newest experiment?”

  Ryan gave him a look of utter disgust in response, and stowed the doll away into a pocket.

  “I had to ask.” Jack justified.

  “She doesn’t appear to have even seen her sixth year, Jack.”

  “You’ve slain younger.”

  “But never for something so petty as to satiate curiousity.” Ryan argued, offended by the suggestion.

  Jack gave a nod in apology and the rest of their journey was spent in silence.

  Jack entered the study before Ryan and bowed to the King.

  Gavin stood as Ryan entered, “Lord Haywood.” He greeted with a smile.

  “My Liege,” Ryan bowed, “You called for me?”

  “Yes, please be seated.” Gavin sat behind his desk.

  Ryan sat across from him and waited for Gavin to speak.

  “If you don’t mind me asking; what was the reason for your absence today? It left us all very worried.” Gavin asked.

  Ryan scratched the back of his head, “Yeah. That was my mistake. I was negligent and missed the passage of time.”

  “He fell asleep.” Jack clarified.

  Gavin laughed in disbelief, “Wot? You? Then what of the servant we sent to get you? Am I to believe you caved his bloody skull in, in your sleep?”

  Ryan shrugged unapologetically, “Some men speak in their sleep, others wander their halls… I may lash out.”

  Gavin was absolutely flabbergasted, “Magic, in your bloody sleep?! Am I supposed to believe that?”

  “He was deep asleep when I made my way in, and reluctant to wake.” Jack explained, “Even the dead would be jealous of his slumber.”

  “Thank you, Jack.” Ryan said sarcastically, urging the man to stop speaking.

  Jack chuckled and left the room with another bow.

  “I would not have guessed that you had simply slept the time away. If Jack had not confirmed it, I would not believe it.” Gavin stated.

  Ryan was eager to change the subject, “What is you wish to discuss with me? You had a reason in calling me, did you not?”

  Gavin nodded and his smile faded, “I want you to speak frankly and answer truthfully: What is it you think of Ray? He has refused to settle on any of my terms; do you believe he is stubbornly set on going to war?”

  “And why do you ask me? Surely there are others who would know him better.” Ryan asked.

  “Because you have successfully allied and dealt with him in the past.”

  “Until he ousted me very similarly to how he is threatening to oust you.”

  Gavin looked concerned, “But do you think he would attempt the same thing twice?”

  Ryan shook his head, “Him being so open about his plans already makes this different. With me the Eastern rebels stormed the castle in secret and captured the fort without warning. My belief is that his threat is not empty but it is one he would wish to avoid following through with.”

  “And what of you? Should I worry where your allegiance lies?”

  “Always. But I swore my fealty, and loyal to my word I will remain as long as my terms are met.” Ryan warned.

  “I feel as if you intend to stay true to your word, but worry your actions may drive me to break mine.” Gavin spoke quietly.

  Ryan leaned back and decided to come clean, “My Liege, you need not fear uprising from Ray as long as I remain at your side. He fears that come the first scent of regime change I will take the crown for my own, and he does not wish to face me. He knows his revolt will not win him the crown from me twice.”

  Gavin frowned, “And am I supposed to be comforted knowing that they only reason Ray will not take the crown from me is his fear of stealing the crown from you? May I remind you that the crown is not yours, and you have no claim to it?”

  Ryan smiled, “I am simply informing you of how I believe he sees the world.”

  “And how do _you_ see the world?” Gavin was suspicious.

  “As far more complicated.” Ryan paused and knew that that was hardly the answer Gavin was seeking, “As I said, you need not fear me pursuing the throne as long as my terms are kept.”

  That hardly put Gavin at ease, but he moved on, “I still remain convinced that he will take the first opportunity he sees to seize the throne.”

  Ryan raised an eyebrow, “They why do you risk his continued presence?”

  It was Gavin’s turn to raise an eyebrow, “Wot? Kill him?” He laughed at the notion, “There would not be three heirs if we could do so. Did you not know of the ancient oaths the First had us swear? We cannot spill our blood.”

  Ryan’s expression made it clear he had not been aware.

  Gavin grinned, “Nor can we order the death of another. We do not tolerate each other out of a sense of honour or sentiment; we are bound to do so.”

  “How inconvenient.”

  “It’s kept me alive. I have no delusions that Ray’s blade wouldn’t have intimately acquainted itself with my throat years ago, otherwise. Michael is a good man, but even we have our squabbles worth spilling blood over.

  If Ray truly is unwilling to challenge the throne with you present, it is because he hopes that you will grow tired of a shared rule and dispose of me on his behalf. That’s assuming he ever does agree to some terms. I have little doubt he is trying to delay progress in an attempt to frustrate you into taking matters into your own hands.” Gavin shared.

  “Then he should be more wary of his actions.” Ryan muttered. Ray was more the nuisance than Gavin currently, and he wanted nothing more than to be rid of him. But he’d be damned if he did Gavin _that_ favour.

  Gavin jumped on the hint of opportunity, “If you were going to _deal_ with him in order to speed matters along… It would only be beneficial to you…” he leaned forward eagerly.

  Ryan cocked his head, “I am no assassin to be hired. Besides, your support would be of no use to me once Geoff learns of his death. Or should I be so foolish as to believe that you would take the blame?”

  “Geoff!” Gavin exclaimed and dropped his head into his hands, “I forgot about Geoff.” He swore and lifted his head, “We’ll have to just wait and hope he does eventually settle. He does respect you though, so your presence at future meetings would be appreciated. Even if there is not much for you to add… That is all, sorry for waking you.”

  “Before you dismiss me, I would ask how the law would handle a certain dispute over personal property. Specifically since upon death possessions are no longer yours. I may have encountered an interesting situation where an item of mine was claimed upon my death, and now I wish to have it returned, but they refuse.” Ryan worded it ambiguously to see whether he should bring the matter of his journal up.

  “Uh,” Gavin was at a loss, “It’s not exactly a common occurrence, Ryan… There is no precedent in the law for your scenario. Never has it come up… I would have to know the object in question, as to make a blanket statement about such ownership could easily have you claim the castle and crown.” He chuckled nervously.

  “That was not what I was speaking of; I would not expect you to lawfully uncrown yourself on a technicality. This item was of a more personal nature, and of my creation.” Ryan clarified.

  “If it’s Edgars remains you seek-” Gavin began but the expression on Ryan’s face made it clear that that was not at all what he meant.

  “Forget I mentioned it; I will attend to the matter myself.” Ryan stood and turned to leave.

  “Oh one last thing!’ Gavin stood as well, “Some servants reported to the Guard that they saw a man leap from a third story window to the floor below.”

  Ryan thought back to his encounter with Ray, “The floor below?” It would explain why he had appeared to vanish.

  “With the presence of assassins in the castle, and one attempt on your life already, I felt you should be cautioned. Normally I’d assume it was a bored Ray, but he has denied any knowledge of the incident.” Gavin informed.

  Ryan bowed, “Thank you for the caution.” And then left the King alone in his study.

~*~

  Ryan didn’t sleep that night, and instead spent the time pouring over his notes obsessively seeking anything that was even remotely feasible. By morning every flat surface was covered in loose papers containing strange sigils and symbols.

  The fire was down to embers and the sun almost on the horizon when Ryan finally lay down.

 He ensured to order a servant to come and wake him well before the day’s meeting so he might venture outside the castle walls, and hoped that he was not so tired as send this servant flying like the other. It had been such a long time since he had walked those narrow streets and observed the lives of the small folk. He thought it would be a welcome distraction from the drama of the castle.

  The day began hazy and only grew darker when the first storm clouds of spring came rumbling in from the south. They hung low in the sky and threatened rain with their distant thunder.

  By the time Ryan was woken a light rain had started to fall. After dressing for the weather his first stop was the armoury to reclaim his weapons. Two guards escorted him past the inner castle wall all the way to the outer wall to ensure he didn’t double back.

  The city’s buildings pressed directly up against the outer castle wall, so it was duty of the inner wall to hold off a siege. As such the outer wall was simple with a small patrol, and the inner wall held all manner of terrible traps for an invading army.

  He stepped out into the narrow cobblestone street and began to wander. He had dressed as drab as his wardrobe had allowed. It was a combination of the lighter travel furs Michael had lent him and a dark brown travellers robe from the castle. He still did not appear to be a peasant but could easily pass for a well off merchant travelling from the North for trade.

  Normally Ryan would head to the market for gossip but with the rain now a steady sprinkle, the market would only contain those in a hurry to buy their wares and leave before the downpour came.

  He decided to make the long trek to the port. Sailors and tradesmen brought the most current news and tales from around the kingdom. The taverns by the docks were bustling at all hours as merchants, traders, and sailors came and went.

  Even with the rain increasing in intensity the main pier was a flurry of activity. Ships were being loaded and unloaded, the fish market was in full swing, and merchants argued over trade.

  Ryan overheard snippets of conversation as he passed, but it was all business related: people arguing over the inflated price of Eastern seafood due to tensions; a vendor who would not sell his Southern wines for what he considered an insulting price; a sea captain scolding her crew as they hurried to unload ores from the West.

  He entered a tavern he knew to be frequented by sailors and dock workers and sat himself at the bar next to a patron.

  The tavern was named Felix Baumgartner after the long dead founder; a man who had been the first to successfully descend into and return from a great gaping cavern. The cavern was so deep that no light could ever reach its base and it had long been rumoured bottomless. Whether it was simply a sinkhole or the location of something more sinister, only the First would know.

  Even though it was not yet midday, the tavern was crowded full of thirsty customers.  

  When the bartender came over Ryan ordered an unsweetened cider.

  The man next to him turned to Ryan, “Unsweetened? I thought the people of the North had a taste for all things sweet. What brings you down this far?”

  Ryan chuckled, he knew his furs would have being labelled as a Northerner, “What brings me? I suppose what brings everyone to the capital; the allure of success and promise of achievement.”

  The man snorted, amused, “I wouldn’t get my hopes up, the nation’s a right mess, and the capital is no exception. The only ones happy are the nobles; watching the rest of us pay for their festivities.”

  Ryan nodded and the bartender delivered his drink.

  The man lifted his drink and muttered into his beer, “If only the rumours were true, then’d there be hope for us.”

  “Which ones?”

  The man put down his drink, “Ah yes, I forgot that the snows of the North silence whispers. Then let me inform you friend: they say the Mad King has returned from the dead.”

  Ryan snorted in mock disbelief, “And why am I to believe that?”

  The man shrugged, “Well he was entombed in the Northern Teeth, and people have said to have seen him travelling south.”

  “And how many would know the Mad King?” Ryan had little doubt the rumours had started not by those who had seen his face but those who had heard Michael scream his name. The man had a temper and bandits were not deaf to cries during combat.

  “They say he’s in the capital now. Lurking within the halls of the castle like a shadow. He seeks the throne again, they say, and His Highness better have his wits about him or shall fall prey to a dead man.”

  “Lurking?” Ryan was taken aback, “The castle is full of servants and guards, anyone ‘lurking’ would be found after such time.”

  The man leaned in and spoke quietly, “He has powers. Powers no mortal should have. He made death his slave, so who is to say he cannot remain unseen should he wish it?” The man looked over his shoulder and turned back, “Heard he brought a servant girl back from the dead as well.”

  Ryan took a drink of his cider, “The man was a tyrant, why waste hope on his return?”

  The man chuckled, “He was a tyrant, aye. But he kept the nobles in line and afraid to act out. They felt bound to spend their gold on their people or face his judgment. There was also no talk of war, of this ‘East Rebellion’. He may have not been the greatest King, but he had control over the kingdom like no other.”

  Ryan cocked an eyebrow, “Even the first?”

  “Aye, even the First. Mind you he probably had a stronger rule before he gathered dust, but now?” He shrugged.

  “But would the people support the tyrant or the fool?” Ryan asked.

  “Careful what you call him…” The man warned, and then answered, “I cannot speak for ‘the people’ but I rather the kingdom function than have its foundations allowed to rot. Maybe like many others I simply wish to see those high-born put in their place, but the last thing any of us working trade would wish to see is the East revolt and close their ports.”

  Ryan nodded and downed the rest of his drink, “War would only tear the kingdom apart and leave us all in rags.” He stood and readied himself to leave.

  “Aye.” The man agreed and then noticed him ready to leave, “The name’s John, first mate on the ‘Righteous King’s Maiden’.” He gave a small salute with his introduction.

  Ryan nodded, knowing he was expected to return the favour, “Ryan; traveller from the North.” He turned and left the tavern.

  The man smiled and turned back to his drink, “Ryan.” He muttered.

  Slowed by alcohol his mind took a moment to link the dots. When it did he nearly choked and abruptly stood, “Ryan?!!”

  He was at a loss, there was no way that had been Ryan Haywood, no way… but he had come from the North and shared his name… He paled and slowly sat himself back down. With a shaking hand he ordered another beer and tried to remember each word he had uttered. Had he called the Mad King mad? And a tyrant? No, if it had been the Mad King he would have not reacted as calmly as he had. He calmed himself with this thought but still couldn’t shake that maybe, just maybe, that had indeed been him.

  Ryan pulled up his hood and made his way back through the pouring rain thinking over what he had been told. If the small folk were openly speaking of his return and how they welcomed it to any stranger, then the King knew of it. If the people spoke of revolt or simply preference of another it was treason. Speaking so openly meant they had no fear of the King. Gavin could at any time claim Ryan was orchestrating a revolution, and void their agreement.

  He thought back; no doubt that had been why the King had been so quick to agree to Ryan’s terms. For Gavin the agreement could be broken at any time with Ryan seemingly at fault. Technically he would be at fault, but through no action of his own.

  His initial displeasure at being fooled grew into amusement of how well it had played on his ignorance.

  The king would lose his crown this day.

~*~

  Gavin seated himself and motioned for Michael and Ray to seat themselves as well. The younger men were used to being the first to enter the King’s Hall for the deliberations, but it allowed them a slightly less formal atmosphere to argue. Gavin felt the most progress with Ray was made during these moments before the older men were present.

  “When we last spoke we were discussing trade regulation for the East, and how you wished for a lack there of.” Gavin began.

  Ray waved a finger, “Not a lack; simply that the East be free to self-regulate.”

  There was a loud bang as Jack threw open one of the heavy doors to the room and ran in panting.

  All heads turned as he quickly slammed the door shut and latched it closed, before running towards the King.

  “Jack…?” Michael began but was waved quiet by the man.

  “No time. Run.” Jack panted and looked to Gavin, “Haywood…”

  “Haywood what?!” Gavin stood, immediately worried.

   A group of shouts that grew into yells and then screams came from the hallway outside the room and answered on Jack’s behalf.

  Ray was out of his seat and well away from Gavin in an instant. Michael also sprung to his feet and habitually reached to where his sword would have normally been.

  The metal latch snapped in two and the doors burst open.

  Ryan strode into the room with a snarl on his face. Guards ran from down the hall towards him but didn’t get far before they were suddenly lifted from the floor and thrown back.

  Ryan’s glare never left Gavin as the doors swung shut behind him.

  Jack stepped forward putting himself between the two, his sword still in its sheath, “Ryan, you said you were a man of your word-”

  Ryan looked to Jack, “I am when I am not misled into an agreement the other intends to break at their first convenience.” He looked back to Gavin, “I don’t take kindly to being taken for a fool, least of all it being based on a technicality!”

  Ray hid a smile and put more distance between himself and the King.

  “Gavin, please don’t tell me you tried to use a technicality against _him…_ Of all people…” Michael groaned.

  Gavin backed away with a near imperceptible shrug and half-hearted noncommittal hand gesture.

  Jack remained between them, and looked Ryan in the eye, “I must inform Geoff.”

  “Then hurry your pace Pattillo.” Ryan gave a nod and gestured towards one of the doors as it opened seemingly of its own accord.

  Jack was rarely one to hesitate and he turned back, “Michael, Ray… Ray?” He had been about to tell the unarmed men to leave as well, but it seemed that Ray had already taken the opportunity to vanish.

  “Jack, you’d be leaving him to be slaughtered.” Michael waved towards Gavin.

  Jack undid his sword belt and tossed it down the large table to land in front of Gavin.

  “Don’t leave me alone with him!” Gavin squealed but quickly drew the sword anyway, “Jack, Michael, please!”

  If Michael had his sword he would have stayed, but unarmed he had no chance.  He left with Jack, and knew that finding Geoff quickly would have the highest rate of survival.

  The instant they left Ryan gestured with his hand, and the heavy wooden table they had been sitting around was dragged across the floor until it barred the doors.

  Gavin backed up with Jack’s sword held high. It was quality enchanted steel but it was not his own and felt foreign in his hands. Time would be his friend here, the longer he held off Ryan the more the odds would start to lean in his favour.

  Ryan smiled but his look was downright predatory. He crossed his arms behind his back and began to slowly walk the edge of the room.

  This threw Gavin off; surely Ryan wanted to take this opportunity to kill him as fast as possible… unless of course what he really wanted was an excuse to fight Geoff… This thought only worried him further, and he entered a proper defensive stance.

  “I can’t believe I was _actually_ going to go along with your proposition!” Ryan laughed, “I will give you this; playing off my ignorance was clever, but how long did you expect it to last? The people in the streets of the capital openly speak of returning me to the throne!”

  Gavin kept a careful watch on the man, knowing he could lash out at any moment, “Once you were declared Warden of the South it would be difficult for the others NOT to notice how much public support you would garner. Even if you were true to your word, the peasants would not be. It would be a simple waiting game until the agreement was breached.”

  Ryan smiled and nodded, genuinely impressed, “The only flaw was choosing me as the one to betray.”

  Gavin’s feet were suddenly pulled out from beneath him. As he fell he saw Ryan draw his sword and charge him. He tried to soften his fall but it was not only gravity pushing him downwards. His head hit the floor with a loud thud and made him lose his vision for a second. He felt cold steel on his neck and when his vision returned, he saw Ryan standing over him.

  Ryan held his blade tip steady against Gavin’s neck and pressed down until blood welled up. He lifted his blade and took the blood, rubbing it between his forefinger and thumb almost contemplatively.

  Appearing intensely interested in it he spoke without shifting his gaze, “I always took you for the type who would prefer to stand back and watch.” he then looked up towards the middle of the room.

  Gavin followed his gaze towards Geoff who was standing there, his hand ready to draw his sword.

  Ryan stabbed his sword downwards, aiming for Gavin’s heart. His blade struck only stone and he looked up with a chuckle.

  Geoff held (a still partly dazed) Gavin up by the arm. His face was stern and looked at Ryan with disapproval.

  Gavin pulled himself free of Geoff’s grip and put a hand to his neck to test just how much he was bleeding, “For a man who can teleport, you sure took your bloody time in getting here, Geoff.” He criticised.

  Geoff broke eye contact with Ryan to look to Gavin, “I am not your bodyguard!” He paused, “That being said, I would have told you to take this time and get as far overseas as you can… BUT you HAD to let him get some of your blood didn’t you?! With that he’ll be able to track you to the Nether and beyond!” Geoff scolded.

  Ryan raised an eyebrow pensively, “What an excellent point, but I have better uses in mind.” He walked over to where Gavin’s crown had fallen and picked it up with his sword, “Shall we consider the crown forfeit?” He smiled and looked to Gavin.

  Gavin huffed and stepped forward angrily.

  Geoff immediately grabbed the collar of Gavin’s cloak and pulled him back, “You idiot! As long as he has your blood, you’re useless. Go in the corner and stay out of my way!”

  Ryan tilted his sword to allow the crown to slide off and clatter to the floor. He lifted his sword before him and entered a solid stance.

  Geoff unsheathed his sword and leapt forwards.

  The impact of their blades was so great that it shattered every window within the room, letting the rain and wind inside. Had their blades been anything but heavily enchanted steel, they would have shattered as well. Instead the castle halls rang with the echo of steel hitting steel as the two of them exchanged blows.

  Their blows weren’t limited to only their swords. As they countered, blocked, and parried they also had to anticipate and react accordingly to any forces wielded by the other. Steel countered steel, and magic negated magic.

  The first blow was landed by Geoff. Ryan had been too slow to react with his parry and Geoff’s sword landed a glancing blow on his arm just below the shoulder. It sliced through his clothing as if were cobweb, and bit into his flesh.

  To Geoff’s surprise it was not Ryan who cried out in pain. He retracted his blade to see no wound on Ryan, and turned towards Gavin.

  Gavin was clutching his arm below the shoulder, and blood was already visibly staining his sleeve.

  “Bloody… Hell…” Gavin panted and gripped the wound tightly.

  Ryan took advantage of the distracted Geoff and plunged his blade into the man’s chest.

  Geoff yowled in pain and grabbed at the blade. Ryan pulled it upwards and twisted, intending to cause as much pain as possible.

  No blood came from the wound and Geoff did not fall. With a heave he pushed himself off of Ryan’s blade and stepped back. He grabbed at his chest as the wounds sealed themselves.

  “What the Hell are you trying to accomplish here?!” Geoff shouted at him.

  Ryan appeared to inspect his still clean sword, “You may be incapable of dying, but you can still feel pain.” He brought his blade forward and once again entered a proper fighting stance, “I may be capable of dying, but it will be poor Gavin who suffers for me.”

  “Is this meant to be some test? To see if I can dispel your curses or match your wit? Do you expect me to simply admit defeat and leave you to your devices?” Geoff straightened and readied his sword once more.

  “If you’re willing to do so it would save both of us some time. As for there being some sort of test, I’d be lying if I said there was no experimentation involved here, but I have little doubt that you could easily dispel any enchantment given time. Honestly, I’d be disappointed otherwise.” Ryan finished, and immediately went on the attack.

  Geoff was now entirely on the defensive, blocking every blow. He intercepted a downward slash that would have split his skull, and then quickly hit away a stab towards his gut. He hoped it didn’t show, but he could feel himself tiring: it wasn’t often an opponent demanded so much physical, mental, and magical exertion. Indeed, he found himself worrying for when Ryan tired, for he was a man with no qualms when it came to fighting dirty, and the battle would become one of distraction and misdirection. Regardless of what he may think of himself, Geoff knew Ryan was only human and therefore could not fight at this level forever.

  Ryan could feel Geoff’s attempts to throw him off balance or off of his feet all together, and knew his counters to the other’s magic would soon weaken. He knew this was far from an even match, but was confident in his ability to sway the odds in his favour. Geoff would tire, or make a mistake eventually, as his greatest weakness was his frustration and lack of patience. Once frustrated he would not think clearly and Ryan was ready to exploit this.

  Geoff lashed out desperate to push Ryan back in order to allow himself some room to breathe. He knew a hit would only harm Gavin but hoped Ryan’s reflexes forced him to defend.

  Ryan did defend instinctively; it was difficult not to. Quickly he took advantage of the opening in Geoff’s defense and swiped at Geoff’s legs to force him off balance. If he were to have any opportunity this was it. As Geoff leapt back, Ryan lifted one of the large stone slabs of the floor behind him.

  Gavin shouted in warning, but Geoff’s heel caught the raised edge and he went down.

  Geoff looked back up just in time to see Ryan’s blade plunge downwards through his sternum and into the stonework below. Ryan stomped down on Geoff’s sword arm, breaking bone and pinning it in place.

  Gavin lifted Jack’s blade and charged forward. Geoff saw and made a quick flicking motion with his right hand, sending Gavin flying backward towards the wall.

  “GEOFF!” Gavin hollered.

  “Stay out of it Gavin!” Geoff answered. His voice was hoarse but still strong considering the steel now lodged between his lungs.

  Geoff turned to stare at Ryan leaning over him, “What now, geniu-” he cut himself off when he noticed a faint tendril of smoke from the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw black symbols burn themselves into the stone around him. Delicate wisps of black smoke rose from the stone as the arcane writing appeared… With Geoff at its center. He immediately recognised it as a spell to summon the dead.

  Ryan could see the realisation in Geoff’s eyes and chuckled, “I figure an immortal will be a suitable tribute. But we’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “If you plan on it killing me-” Geoff used his free arm to try and dislodge Ryan but to no avail.

  “Nah, but you sure as Hell won’t go unscathed.” Ryan smiled, and the symbols finished burning into the stone. They turned a bright red emitting a faint glow and the air seemed to hum above them.

  Geoff twisted and his mind raced. He ran through the spellwork Ryan had laid down trying to find some flaw or exploit he could use to make the whole thing backfire. He needed to make the summoning fail or rebound onto Ryan himself. Unfortunately it appeared Ryan was quite the solid caster and the whole thing was very well constructed. All it lacked was a binding; a measure that would ensure the summoned would obey the summoner. Ryan hardly seemed the type to neglect the addition of something so important, which meant he was confident what was being summoned would be loyal to him and him alone.

  “Edgar,” Geoff muttered.

  Ryan’s widening smile only confirmed it, “I miss the little guy.”

  Geoff knew then what he had to do. He couldn’t break or stop the spell, but could alter it. The arcane was wildly unforgiving, and Geoff knew exactly how he could interfere. Ryan’s magic would only be countered by its own. He could already feel the spell latching onto him and felt the fiery pain begin its travel up his veins to his core. He didn’t let it distract him as he located the object he had been looking for. Now to just get it here.

  Ryan exclaimed in pain as a large cream coloured object appeared from thin air travelling with great velocity. It hit him square in the face and the impact threw him backwards and onto the ground.

  Ryan propped himself up with his arm and could feel blood running down his face. He was confused as to how Geoff had broken his curse on Gavin until he saw what the object was.

  Next to him lay Edgar’s skull. On it were small smears of blood from where it had hit and split open Ryan’s brow and the bridge of his nose. Ryan had been so careful countering Geoff’s magic he hadn’t even considered countering his own.

  He stood with a sway and could see Geoff clenching his jaw in pain as the spell began drawing upon his life.

  Ryan fought to remain upright and brought a hand up to his face. He brought it back down to see it covered in blood.

  Blood.

  His blood.

  Ryan’s heart nearly stopped as he whipped around. There it was; his own blood spilled on the rune covered stones. He could feel the panic rising within him. Behind him Geoff yelled out and began to writhe in agony, but Ryan could only look at his now shaking blood covered hand.

  It wasn’t until Geoff screamed again that the spell finally grabbed hold of Ryan.

  Gavin watched on in horror as Ryan dropped to the ground and his screams joined Geoff’s.

  Gavin crept forward and tried to breach the circle with his sword. In response the magic wrenched the blade from his hand and threw it across the room. He looked to a broken window as lightning cracked outside, debating whether the fall would break his legs if he were to jump. He didn’t know what was happening, but whatever was happening was bad. That much he could tell. He was no expert on the arcane but assumed there would be a lot less screaming involved if things were going correctly.

  It seemed to take ages, but finally the spell died down, and Gavin was able to carefully approach as the symbols once again faded to black were carried away like ash by the wind.

  “…Geoff?” He quietly inquired.

  A faint moan came from Geoff in response, and he looked up at Gavin with half lidded eyes that appeared unable to focus.

  That spurred Gavin into action and he grabbed hold of Ryan’s sword in an attempt to dislodge it. It took some coercing and wiggling back and forth to remove, but finally he pulled it free with only minor complaint from Geoff.

  “Come on, Geoff. Get up.” Gavin urged but it was clear Geoff was struggling to remain conscious. He kept a watchful eye on Ryan who lay beneath his cloak mere feet away, but he had yet to stir.

  “YOU BLOODY MONG SAUSAGE, GET UP!” Gavin hollered at Geoff.

  In response a groan came from Ryan, and Gavin’s heart raced when he saw his cloak shift slightly. Gavin stood and ran over to Ryan’s downed form. He hoofed him right in the side roughly where he guessed his ribs were. Gavin wanted to delay any recovery from Ryan as much as possible.

  Unfortunately Gavin only hurt himself as he felt the pain of the impact spread across his own ribs. He swore loudly and hugged himself, confident that he had just fractured at least one or two of his ribs. He cursed Ryan and his magic, and hoped it wasn’t a permanent thing, or at least something Geoff could remedy.

  Gavin made his way back to Geoff, ensuring Ryan remained in his sight. Geoff carried a plethora of unusual objects on him, simply because he couldn’t be bothered to find a place for them. Gavin searched through his pockets hoping to find a specific one.

  His fingers found the smooth round object and he pulled it out. It was the size of a large glass marble and an aquamarine colour that darkened to black at its core. Gavin returned Geoff’s sword to its sheath and grabbed his arm tightly. He prayed that his throw would be a good one and took aim. Using all his strength he threw the ender pearl out of one of the broken windows.

  Ryan gathered his strength just enough to lift his cloak and see both Gavin and Geoff teleport away leaving behind only purple ender sparks.

  Ryan struggled to get an arm underneath himself. It felt as if everything was sore; as if every muscle fibre and tissue in his body had split apart then been squeezed tightly back together. His vision was blurred and he could hear pounding.

  It took a moment but he realised the pounding was the very real noise of the royal and castle guard trying to break into the room. That motivated him to try and stand which was much easier in concept than execution. His head felt too heavy and pain drained his limbs of strength. The only bright side was his vision finally beginning to clear. After some struggle he managed to get his legs beneath him. Standing he teetered side to side dangerously and quickly hurried over broken glass to lean himself on the wall.

  The cold and wet stone was soothing and he took some time to gather his thoughts. He gingerly touched the bridge of his nose and was pleased to find it had stopped bleeding. His hand moved up to his brow; that too had begun to scab. He poked at it and the top of his hand hit something hard. Both his hands immediately flew to his forehead. Two. There were two.

  He scrambled to grab a large shard of glass in which to see his reflection.

  Finding a suitable fragment he tilted it until he could see himself.

  The eyes that looked back at him were not his, or rather he did not recognise as his. His irises had turned white and his sclera as black as his pupils.

  But they were hardly the most noticeable change.

  His hand went back to his forehead as if to confirm that what he was seeing truly was there.  Two large horns curled forward from his forehead, not unlike the horns of a bull…

  Ryan fell back against the wall and dropped the glass. The summoning had been successful.

  His hands ran up and down the curves of his horns; this was hardly how he had intended for Edgar to return, if a return it could even be considered.

  The sound of wood cracking brought him back to the present. A large section of one of the doors splintered forward and the guards cried out in victory. Jack’s voice was present encouraging them onwards.

  Ryan looked around the room trying to come up with a plan. It seemed he wasn’t going to go unseen, and he had no materials even for a temporary enchantment or glamour to hide his new headgear.

  The doors finally came down and the table barring them was pushed aside. Jack led the charge into the room with a borrowed blade. He halted as he saw a horned figure sitting in the King’s chair and holding the crown loosely in one hand.

  “R-Ryan? Wha-” Jack shook his head and pulled his gaze away from the horns on Ryan’s head that appeared to have been designed with the sole purpose of goring another. This led him to notice Ryan’s eyes and the inhuman gaze he now wielded. He had too many questions forming in his throat and was unable to get them out.

  “Gavin and Geoff have been dealt with. What you see is Geoff’s parting gift.” Ryan explained and hoped his exhaustion came across as lazy disinterest instead.

  “How did you…?” Jack was still having trouble piecing together the string of events.

  “He is dealt with.” Ryan said irritated by the open mouthed stares of Jack’s men, more than Jack himself.

  Jack gathered himself and placed the tip of his sword on the ground as he dropped to one knee. His men rushed to follow his lead.

  Ryan would have stood, but worried he would only sway and collapse, so he remained seated, “Tell your men to leave and have my belongings brought from the labyrinth. Be rid of Gavin’s things.” He ordered.

  Jack relayed the orders and his men left the room.

  “As for you Jack: pull up a chair and be ready to take notes. We have much to discuss regarding how the kingdom is going to be run from now on…” Ryan looked down and smiled as lightning cracked and thunder rolled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Geoff flee from the Mad King's third reign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to better set up future conflict, and wrap up loose ends.

  It seemed to take ages, but finally the spell died down. Gavin was able to carefully approach as the arcane symbols once again faded to black and were carried away like ash by the wind.

  “…Geoff?” It was more a plea than question.

  A faint moan came from Geoff in response, and he looked up at Gavin with half lidded eyes that appeared unable to focus.

  With a quick glance towards Ryan’s downed form, Gavin sprang into action. He grabbed hold of Ryan’s sword in an attempt to dislodge it. It took some coercing and wiggling back and forth to remove, but finally he pulled it free from Geoff’s chest with only minor complaint.

  “Come on, Geoff. Get up.” Gavin urged but it was clear Geoff was struggling to remain conscious. He kept a watchful eye on Ryan who lay beneath his cloak mere feet away, but he had yet to stir.

  “YOU BLOODY MONG SAUSAGE, GET UP!” Gavin hollered at Geoff, he was on the verge of panic.

  Geoff’s eyes closed as he lost his fight for consciousness and Gavin noticed Ryan shifting beneath his upturned robes.  He assumed Ryan was in as bad of a state as Geoff, but didn’t want to risk him recovering any time soon.

  He heard a pained groan come from under the robes and his heart raced. He needed to delay any recovery from Ryan.

  Gavin quickly stood and ran over to Ryan’s downed form. Putting all his weight and momentum into a kick he hoofed Ryan roughly where he thought his ribs were.

  Sharp pain shot across Gavin’s chest as all the damage from the kick was magically reflected back. Seemed Ryan’s spell work was in working order even if the man himself was not. He swore loudly and hoped it was a curse that Geoff would be capable of removing sometime soon.

  Arm hugging his side, Gavin rushed back to Geoff as he had an idea.  Hurriedly he searched through Geoff’s robes. The man kept a plethora of unusual objects on him and Gavin was sure he would find ender pearls among them. His fingers found pouches of bone meal, Redstone, and even seeds. There were diamonds, a gold watch, and even a handful of emeralds. It was clear Geoff did not fear pick-pockets or muggers.

  Finally his fingers found the smooth marble-like surface of a pearl, and none too soon. Ryan had begun to stir.

  Returning Geoff’s sword to its sheath, Gavin grabbed the ender pearl and threw it with all his strength out of the broken window. He hoped that his throw was good, and grabbed Geoff with one arm and Ryan’s blade with the other.

  In an instant the two of them were being drenched by rain and sitting in the muck near the stables. It was much darker outside than it had been in the King’s Hall, but Gavin did not let that slow him as he fumbled around to get a better grip on Geoff and the sword. He could see a hay cart within one of the stables and began dragging Geoff towards it.

  “You- fat assed- ex- regent!” He huffed between pained breaths, “Bloody – hell – you better- appreciate – this! Me – dragging – your – half-ton-”

  “Your Highness!” A stable hand raced forward to aid his king.

  “Ready the cart! Get me a horse to pull it!” Gavin ordered.

  “Should I ready your-”

  “NOW!” Gavin hollered and cut him off, “Any horse! That cart! Now!”

  The stable hand jumped and raced to do as he was ordered. He outfitted the nearest horse and attached the cart in mere minutes. He led the animal out into the rain towards his king, before aiding him in lifting Geoff into the back of the cart.

  Gavin propped Geoff up as best he could and then pulled the wet hay over to cover him from curious onlookers. Jumping up on the small wooden seat and grabbing the reins, Gavin slapped the horse urging it forward.

  The horse was a work horse and far from fast, but it had the strength and stamina they would need if the wanted to make it out of the city and into the country side with enough of a lead to stay ahead of Ryan’s newly acquired army. What was key was that they left the city as quick as possible before the gates were ordered closed. The Ex-King would not be able to remain hidden within the city walls, especially having to drag around an unconscious Geoff.

  Gavin had stowed the now stolen sword beneath the hay behind his seat and rubbed the rain from his face to better see. He passed the castle gates without worry and rushed down the empty city streets. His attire was far from appropriate for the weather and was quickly drenched to the bone. Shivering and absolutely miserable by the time he left the city, he knew he would not survive the weather much longer.

  It seemed that even the weather was on the Mad King’s side as the rain became hail and then sleet. At this rate he would not only kill his horse but himself as well. He slowed the gasping horse to a walk and looked back towards the lights of the city behind him. His teeth chattered and his hands shook uncontrollably. Turning back to the road in front he could see a small homestead drawing nearer.

  He was greatly conflicted; death chased at his heels, but to skip the warmth of a fresh fire would be to ride into death’s maw. Could he afford closing the gap between him and Ryan’s men?

  He shook the water from his hair and felt that ice had begun to form. That convinced him he needed fire, and he steered off of the road and towards the homestead.

  His shouts and banging on the farmhouse door finally yielded results when a haggard old man pulled it open. Gavin pushed his way into the house, drenching the floor beneath him.

  “F-Fire.” Gavin struggled through chattering teeth, “I will pay you if you let me spend t-the night. Take care of my horse and aid me in carrying in my companion.”

  The man appeared concerned for this stranger’s well-being and immediately put on his rain gear to follow Gavin back outside.

  With his aid Gavin got Geoff inside and laid him in front of the fire. He began to warm himself as well and removed all but his innermost layer of clothing while the man took the horse into the barn.

  Gavin sat himself all but within the hearth in his attempt to feel warm once more. He assumed Geoff would not die of the cold, but figured it would not aid his recovery either. So he removed Geoff’s cloak as best he could and fished out some gold to pay the man.

  The man returned and Gavin tossed the coins towards the man who caught them midair.

  The man looked over the gold and their clothing, “M’Lords may I ask what you are doing so far from the city? In this weather?”

  Gavin was quick to answer, “You have your gold, you did not see us, but know the Mad King reigns again. Do with that information what you will.”

  “The Mad King? But he fell in battle to King Free.”

 “What is your name?” Gavin changed the subject.

  “Louis.”

  “Well Louis, we do not flee a ghost. Believe what you may.”

  The man stood in the room unsure of what to do, “Shall I bring you the quilts?”

  “Yes, please. Thank you. I will not forget your aid.” Gavin answered and looked back at Geoff who still hadn’t stirred. The chill was finally leaving his bones, and as much as his body screamed for him to continue fleeing, he knew he stood no chance in this weather. He sat there and stared at Geoff as anxiety ate away at him from within. Ryan could have killed Gavin. Geoff had not saved him; if Ryan had wanted him dead he would be. Ryan’s target had been Geoff all along, and he had used Gavin to lure him into battle.

  Gavin hugged his legs to his chest and accepted the heavy quilt that Louis returned with.  No amount of warmth would thaw the ice that had settled in his stomach.

~*~

  The sound of shuffling startled Gavin awake. He hadn’t even known he had fallen asleep, and immediately his heart rate skyrocketed. How long had they stayed here?

  He looked over to see Geoff quietly slumped up against the wall with a warm tea cupped between his hands.

  “Geoff!” Gavin was over him in a split second, “Geoff, by the gods, how are you?!”

  Geoff’s head slowly tilted up, his eyes still appeared hazy, and every movement was labored, but he was awake, “Gavin. I’ve been better.” He forced a smile.

  Louis came by and handed Gavin a tea as well, “It’s not much; the winter was long, but I can also offer you bread?”

  Gavin shook his head, he wasn’t about to eat a peasant out of house and home, but accepted the tea.

  Geoff’s hand shot forward with surprising speed to cover the top of Gavin’s cup when he went to take a sip.

  “Geoff?” Gavin was astonished that he was even capable of moving so fast in his current state.

  “Gavin, who is this man and what did you tell him?” Geoff’s voice was quiet and strained.

  “A farmer? I only told him we were fleeing the Mad King’s return.”

  “My name is Louis, M’lord.” Louis clarified.

  Geoff groaned and pulled the cup from Gavin’s hand, “And who do you think a peasant fears more? The Mad King or two fleeing lords?”  It took him a couple attempts but he managed to stand with support from the wall. With a loud hiss he dumped both teas into the hearth, “I will not have you drugged and us dragged back to that mad man.”

  Louis looked horrified, “M’lords! I would never!” He backed away shaking his head.

  “I do not mean to imply you are a dishonorable man, but caution is our only friend.” Geoff told Louis and then turned to Gavin, “Gavin, we leave now.”

  “I will ready your cart.” Louis gave a quick bow and rushed outside on arthritic joints.

  Gavin offered Geoff his shoulder and it was eagerly accepted as they made their way outside. The sun had yet to rise and the rain had stopped. The ground was still muck, but now the weather would allow them to make progress.

  “You managed a horse and cart?” Geoff couldn’t help but smile as Louis brought the harnessed steed forward.

  “Did you expect I drag you unconscious across the kingdom?!” Gavin answered, “I also made sure you had your blade!”

  “I noticed,” Geoff patted his side where the sheath hung, “Thank you.”

  Gavin aided Geoff in climbing into the back of the cart, before seating himself in the driver’s seat. With a quick wave to Louis they set off.

  It was almost noon before they were forced to stop again as their horse could go no further without rest. The stallion foamed at the mouth and refused to move forward.

  Gavin was up in arms and yelled at the beast. Did it not understand their dire need to distance themselves from the city?

  Geoff sat up and leaned over to Gavin, “We will kill this horse if we continue. It is spent and we cannot afford the time he will require to rest. Just past those trees over there, there is a creek. Walk the horse over and we may all drink.”

  Gavin nodded and managed to convince the stallion towards the water by getting off the cart and leading it.

  Now mostly hidden by the small grove of trees he unhitched the horse and removed its reins, allowing it to drag itself over to the creek to drink deeply. He then helped Geoff out and onto the ground.

  “Tell me again of Ryan’s state.”  Geoff ordered as he sat himself down on a rock at the edge of the water.

  Gavin groaned, he had already recounted that day’s events multiple times and in great detail, “I told you, he moved a bit and moaned in pain. I saw not his face nor inspected the extent of his injury. I was considerably more occupied with leaving the castle alive.”

  Geoff finally had the opportunity to look the lad over properly. His regal clothes were muddied and torn. He moved as if his side greatly pained him, and his cheeks had a pink flush to them which caught Geoff’s attention immediately. He remembered back to when he had sunk his blade into Ryan’s shoulder, only to have Gavin receive the injury. That wound would not have received any treatment.

  “Gavin, show me your shoulder.” Geoff motioned for him to come over.

  Gavin removed his cloak and overshirt to reveal the hastily bandaged arm. It had bled through long ago and was now brown with dried blood.

  “Take that rag off and wash it in the stream. I don’t have it in me to heal you properly right now so we’re going to have to make do with what I can find.” Geoff pushed himself up on his feet and walked towards the bank.

  Gavin slowly pried the rag loose little by little and watched as Geoff gathered some objects and plants from along the bank before disappearing into the small outcrop of trees. He had finished washing the fabric as clean as it would get before Geoff returned.

  Geoff sat him down and inspected the wound.

  “How is it?” Gavin asked. Removing the bandage had been painful and caused it to bleed anew.

  “It could be worse, it could also be better.”

  “That’s hardly comforting.”

  Geoff took what he had scavenged and laid it out. This time of year there wasn’t much foliage but he had found some good roots and collected sap. He put a small bulb and some roots into his mouth and began to chew as Gavin watched on. He reached for the sap he had collected and handed it to Gavin on the piece of bark he had used to transport it.

  “Eat the sap. For the fever.” Geoff instructed with his mouth full.

  Gavin did as he was told but not without protest and gagging, before hurrying to the stream to wash the bitter goop down. He returned to see Geoff had spat his mouthful of roots into his hand.

  “I ate the bloody sap; I am not eating your damn spittle.” He pointed to the mashed mess.

  Geoff rolled his eyes and grabbed him by the arm. He pushed the paste into Gavin’s wound and held it there firmly as he made a variety of noise in response to the stinging plant mass.

  “Baby. Give me the bandage you had.” Geoff grabbed the cloth and used it to secure the paste to the wound, “Now we won’t have to amputate.”

  “That’s disgusting.” Gavin grumbled and replaced his overshirt and cloak. It was still too cold out to expose that much skin for any significant time.

  “That’s life.” Geoff responded, he then changed the topic, “We need to keep moving even if it is only by foot. Will you be capable of doing so?”

  “Me? What of you?! You can barely stand!”

  “I will manage. Even if we must stop often, it is better than not moving at all. This is a race against the Mad King’s recovery. I must be well enough to hide us from his magic before he is well enough to use it. At the same time, I have little doubt that he has the full might of the army ravaging the countryside in pursuit. We must move faster than word travels so we do not find ourselves arrested at the next town when we seek food. Messengers are certainly making their way to every lord as we speak.” He explained to Gavin.

  “If you believe yourself capable, then I will follow.” Gavin gave a nod.

  Geoff stood and started to move.

  “Wait a moment.” Gavin went over to the cart and removed Ryan’s sword. It was quality enchanted steel, and although it was much too large for his arm it was better than no weapon at all.

  Geoff looked over in curiosity and his eyes widened in recognition, “Gavin drop it!”

  “Wot?”

  Geoff raced over and pulled the sword from his hands, carefully using his cloak to prevent his skin from touching the metal. He dropped it to the ground, “You took Ryan’s sword? Are you insane?! The enchantments are of his own making! They could do anything!”

  “I was and am weaponless Geoff! I grabbed the nearest blade!” Gavin defended himself.

  Geoff crouched and examined the sword, “It looks like your insistence of remaining unarmed in the castle has saved you.” He hovered his hand above the hilt and closed his eyes. When he opened them he spoke again, “Yes, he knew that others would be touching his blade; there are enchantments here that are effectively being smothered by binding wards.” He felt it was safe enough to touch and picked up the sword, standing straight once more.

  “Who weaponizes a weapon?” Gavin’s voice was shrill.

  Geoff raised an eyebrow, “My blade is the same. As is Ray’s and Michael’s. I’m sure our enchantments are less vicious and cruel, however.”

  “I held your sword just fine! And Michael’s as well!” Gavin argued and made mental note that his next sword should contain these types of enchantments too.

  “Yes well, the standard is that they do not activate until they are turned against their owner. Ryan can be said to be more paranoid than most, and clearly never wants anyone but himself wielding the blade.” Geoff was taking this opportunity to closely examine the sword as he knew this was a rare opportunity that he likely would never get again, “Also, as this belongs to him, all he need do is track it and not us, should he realize we have it. We will have to leave it behind. Maybe bury it in the mud so that no poor soul finds it and ends up interrogated by him.”

  “Well once you’re able of hiding us, can you not hide the sword as well?” Gavin asked.

  Geoff exhaled slowly, “That won’t be anytime soon. This blade is his magic and therefore actively calls to him. These enchantments were woven into the steel at the height of his power and thus are stronger than anything I can hope to muster at this point in time. Honestly, right now, this sword probably contains more power within it than Ryan and I combined. It is too dangerous to risk.

  “Then what are you waiting for? Chuck it to the stream!” Gavin motioned to the water.

  Geoff gave the sword one last look, before walking to the water’s edge and throwing it in. If Ryan wanted it back he would have to search the muck at the bottom of the stream.

    With a final pat on the horse’s neck they departed and left the stallion to whoever would find it. With the ground as wet as it was they had little choice but to stick to the road; not that they were in any state to brave the wilds even if it was dry.

  Gavin’s original direction had simply been “away” and Geoff decided that it was time to pick a destination. He knew this land better than anyone and that included locations where they could rest with little worry while distancing themselves from Ryan.

~*~

  Ryan violently awoke in his bed surrounded by healers. He pushed them aside and tried to leave the bed only to fall to the floor onto all fours.

  The healers immediately surrounded him once more with the intent to lift him back into his bed.

  “LEAVE ME BE!” Ryan roared and threw off their arms. There was no part of him that did not hurt, and he could not remember what had happened after Jack’s men broke down the door into the King’s Hall.   He looked his hands over and then his arms, legs, chest. His body was covered in swollen purple and black skin, bruises just beneath the surface. He had bled internally throughout his body and should not be alive. He could still be bleeding. A growing puddle of blood was beneath him and lifting a hand he felt it coming from his nose, eyes, and mouth.

  A thought struck him and he moved his now blood covered hand further upward.  He grabbed and pulled at a curved horn; they were still there and as securely welded to his skull as ever.

  Ryan awoke once more in his bed, unaware he had even passed out. The room was brighter and the rain had halted.

  His legion of healers had been reduced to one who sat across from his bed. The male healer stood when he noticed Ryan’s return to consciousness.

  “Your Highness! I will send word to Captain Pattillo that you have awoken.”

  “Wait.” Ryan was startled by how hoarse he sounded, “What is the extent of my injuries? What has occurred?” He forced himself into a sitting position much to his body’s protest.

  The healer rushed over, “Do not strain yourself, highness. You have lost more blood than any other man hath in his body. All the castle’s healers were kept busy ensuring you lived. They are all exhausted now and only I, the apprentice, remain to watch you…” He paused and seemed hesitant to say the next, “The spell or whatever magic it was had effect on more than just your innards. Your appearance-”

  “I am aware of my appearance.”  Ryan interrupted.

  The healer seemed relieved that he was not the bearer of the news.

  Ryan took advantage of the quiet to examine himself once more. His body was no longer one giant bruise but it was clearly raw and fragile. This was going to take much too long to recover from. Fighting his exhaustion he used the poster of his bed to pull himself upright.

  “Your Highness, no! Please.” The healer rushed towards him but seemed afraid of touching him, “Please, the healers said your injuries will inevitably return. Using up your strength now is not wise.”

  Ryan looked at his arms and could see the damage returning. The healers were clueless as to his affliction, but he knew. He could exhaust every healer in the city and be no better.  What he was was two bodies attempting exist within the same space. He was unstable, and would remain so if all he received was healing. This required drastic action to remedy, and his mind began to survey the options.

  He concluded that he did not have the fortitude to support his new body. It may appear mostly his, but the spell had fused him with Edgar. Edgar had been a much larger creature than he, and what he was experiencing now was the life force of a man attempting to sustain not only itself but a minotaur as well.

  This level of fusion, produced by such a powerful spell, could not be undone. Never again would they exist as separate entities.

  His mind found the solution but he steered himself away from it, hoping for another option.

  No matter how he approached the situation his mind danced back and insisted that it was the only way.

  “Is something wrong?” The healer asked, noticing Ryan’s troubled expression.

  Ryan shook his head, “Nothing to concern you. Let me think on this problem further.”

  Yet no other solution came, and Ryan cursed under his breath. It was something he had looked into during his last rule. Always one to push boundaries he had attempted it once, not more than a month before the end of his rule.

  It was extremely effective.

  But he could not trust himself with it.

  No, If Gavin had not killed him… He didn’t want to think where he would be.

  And now… once was hardly going to be enough. This was a path deemed too dangerous even by him. A one way road to becoming a monster. Irredeemable.

  But it was either that or experience the rending of body and soul. Something he was sure he would not miraculously recover from.

  It appeared as if he had no choice.

  “Help me dress.” He ordered the healer.

  “Your Highness, no. You will die if-” The healer argued.

  “Fine. Then leave and inform Pattillo to meet me at the entrance to the dungeons.” Ryan had a second thought, “Wait. I need you first.” He stumbled over to his desk and pulled out a quill, ink, and paper. Quickly he drew a sigil on the paper, as simple as he could afford to make it. He pulled up his sleeve and pressed the still wet ink to his forearm so that the sigil remained.

  He motioned for the healer to approach, and when he did, Ryan grabbed his arm and pressed it to the sigil.

  The apprentice healer suddenly felt as if he had run a mile, and had to sit down. He breathed deeply, “What… what was that?” he looked up at Ryan to see that his horns had vanished and his eyes had returned to something that could be called human, “Your face-!”

  Ryan pulled his sleeve down to cover the sigil, careful not to let it smudge. He felt his forehead. The horns were there, but judging by the healer’s reaction they were now at least invisible.

  He went to the wardrobe and grabbed clothing to change into with renewed vigor. He had taken a little more from the healer than the spell required, but Ryan needed the strength more than he.

  “Get Captain Pattillo, and inform him to meet me at the dungeons immediately.” Ryan issued the order once more.

  The healer nodded and stood with a slight sway, before heading off to do as he was ordered.

~*~

  Jack swallowed a gasp when Ryan approached. His sunken eyes, the black bags beneath, his skin beyond pale and covered in cold sweat. He could be mistaken for an undead.

  “Ryan, are you fit to-” Jack began.

  “I will be.” Ryan did not let him finish his question, “Clear the Guard from the dungeons and give me the ledger of all imprisoned. These are The Fool’s prisoners and not mine, so focus on those awaiting execution.”

  Jack nodded at his hoarse words and ordered the nearest guard to spread the word, “One problem your Highness. King Free abolished execution as punishment.”

  Ryan stopped and turned to face Jack with nothing but confusion on his face, “He what?”

  “Abolished execution as punishment for a crime.” Jack repeated.

  “Even for murder?”

  Jack nodded.

“High treason, surely still-”

  Jack shook his head, “Completely abolished.”

  They reached the bottom of the stairs and the Warden handed Jack the keys and records before leaving as well.

  Ryan was still baffled by the absurdity of it, “That’s being reinstated immediately. Have all the cases of all those guilty of treason sent to me for review. I feel I may set free most of those who wished Gavin ill-will.

   As for the murderers am I to believe he simply housed them here? Or did he not consider it a crime and let them roam free?”

  Jack chuckled, “They were left in the dungeons to rot and reflect on their wrongs.”

  Ryan shook his head before continuing, “Then lead me to those you consider the most worthy of death.”

  “And then what shall you do?”

  “I will kill them.” Ryan answered simply.

  Jack looked at the sickly unarmed man, but knew better than to say anything. He guided Ryan deep into the dungeon, past jeering inmates until they happened upon the cells that held only one prisoner each. Eventually Jack stopped at one.

  “Inside is Justin ‘Blood Scythe’ McCail. Killed 6 working women with a scythe over the period of a month, before he was caught.” Jack closed the prisoner ledger he had read the information from.

  “Open the door and wait outside.” Ryan ordered.

  Jack nodded and unlocked the cell door, allowing Ryan to pass and then closed it behind him. He waited outside as ordered but remained alert; even a shackled man could overpower someone as ill as Ryan. He had followed the Healers’ reports closely, and was worried about what they had said. Whatever had occurred, Jack considered himself lucky not to have been in the same room.

  He heard a scuffle followed by a shout, which made him immediately enter the room to ensure all was well.

  What he saw would end up haunting him.

  Ryan was hunched over the man who was on the ground, the fingers of his right hand digging deeply into the skin of the prisoner’s neck. But it was no chokehold. Where his fingers were blood began to drip from the man’s neck as his eyes rolled up so far only the whites were visible. The occasional tremor racked his form and soon bloody sores opened all over his body. Ryan’s hand remained on his neck as his skin fell away and he melted away into a bloody puddle of viscera.

  Ryan straightened and flicked off some of the blood from his fingers, before turning to Jack, “I told you to remain outside.” He said quietly, his expression grim.

  Jack was gaping. He had no words to say, but he was no less observant. Ryan’s voice was significantly less hoarse, and even in the gloom Jack could see that his skin was a healthier shade. He held himself straighter as well, and seemed more confident in his balance.

  “ _What was that?!_ ” Jack finally spit out.

  “Take me to the next prisoner on your list.” Ryan ignored the question and wiped the blood from his fingertips with a rag. He felt like a new person already, but was far from where he needed to be. He could still feel the very fibers of his being pulled taut. Pain shot across his back where they failed to hold and he could feel the wetness that signalled further bleeding.

  “Ryan-” Jack could see his pain.

  “Next. Prisoner.” Ryan repeated, emphasizing each word. There was no turning back now, he’d made his decision.

  Jack hesitated slightly before leading him forward to the next cell, “Roanna Valdez. Poisoned her Husband and parents, before then smothering their three children.” He unlocked the cell.

  This time he knew better than to enter when he heard the struggle and then shriek. When Ryan returned he was quiet and seemed deep in thought.

  Ryan looked down at his bloodied hand and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. It had only been the second time and yet it had been _so much easier._ Heat flared across his back as he was once more able to heal himself with magic.

  He’d always known power to be his addiction, but this… this was on an entirely new level. Devouring the life of another… He clenched his fists willing himself to move on, to forget how _good_ it felt.

  _And it was so easy to justify._

  These were people sentenced to die _anyway_ , what did it matter? He shook his head to clear that dangerous train of thought. To follow through on it would soon have him run out of those sentenced to death. Who would he justify taking next? Petty criminals? The homeless? Orphans? Servants? Common folk? He was not recovering lost strength. No, that only time would restore. This… This was all just furthering what he would be capable of.

  He opened his eyes and looked at Jack’s concerned face; before he knew what he was saying the words “Bring me another.” escaped his lips.

  Jack did as he was told and took him to another cell, “This is Robert-”

  “Open the cell.” Ryan no longer cared for the crime.

  Jack was taken aback.

  “Open the cell.” Ryan repeated with hunger in his eyes.

  He unlocked the cell and Ryan all but pushed himself inside. Far too soon he returned with fresh blood on his hands. Whatever it was that he was doing, he was improving at an alarming pace.

  Ryan felt giddy, and he knew he could no longer trust himself. His will power had all but evaporated, but he still fought. What did he think he was doing? He had to stop this. Now. He told himself it wasn’t too late; he could do it. That he could accept this power and halt his hunger for more. But why should he stop? He could send all those on death row his way…

  He laughed at himself trying to rationalize it. He was far too good at it. Falling to his knees he grabbed at his head; was he finally living up to his title?

  Jack watched as Ryan broke down into manic laughter and fell to his knees. His mind raced but he did not know what to do.

  “More.” Ryan muttered under his breath.

  “Ryan?” Jack asked but found himself backing away. Was he finally witnessing his decent into madness?

  Ryan looked up at Jack, locking his gaze. A crooked smile was on his face and his eyes held a manic sparkle, “You’re going to have to kill me Jack.” He stood and wiped off his knees, “Too bad you won’t be able too.” He pushed his way past and left Jack alone in the dungeon.

  Jack was left in the gloom, staring after him. What had he just witnessed?


End file.
